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PORTRAIT    OF    BACON 

From  the  First  Edition  of  ' '  Sylva  Sylvartim  " 


Frontispiece 


IS  IT  SHAKESPEARE? 

THE  GREAT  QUESTION  OF  ELIZABETHAN 

LITERATURE.    ANSWERED  IN  THE  LIGHT 

OF  NEW  REVELATIONS  AND  IMPORTANT 

CONTEMPORARY     EVIDENCE     HITHERTO 

UNNOTICED 


BY  A  CAMBRIDGE  GRADUATE 

"  They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances  " 


WITH    FACSIMILES 


NEW   YORK 
E.    P.    DUTTON   &    CO. 

1903 


Printed  by 

Ballantyne,  Hanson  &•  Co. 

Edinburgh 


GIFT 


932.1 
/  Ef/7 

TO  .  ALL  .  SERIOVS .  STVDENTS. 

OF  .  ELIZABETHAN  .  LITERATVRE. 

SHAKESPEARIANS  .  OR .  BACONIANS. 

CIPHERERS .  DECIPHERERS. 

OR .  REVIEWERS. 

THE .  AVTHOR. 

WISHETH. 

HAPPINESSE  .  AND  .  VNITIE. 

VNDER. 

ONE .  HEAD  .  ONE  .  MOTTO  .  AND. 

ONE  .  TRILITERAL .  BANNER. 

THVS  .  SVBSCRIBING  .  HIMSELF. 

So,  Reviewers,  save  my  Bacon  ; 
0  let  not  Folly  mar  Delight : 
These  my  name  and  claim  unriddle 
To  all  who  set  the  Rubric  right. 


ivi758107 


PREFACE 


Who  knows  not  how  difficult  it  always  is  to  get  people  to 
alter  their  preconceived  ideas  or  their  traditional  beliefs  ? 
But  whenever  sufficient  evidence  has  been  discovered  in 
support  of  a  change  of  current  opinion,  then  it  is,  I  think, 
just  as  well  that  some  one  should  collect  it  and  present  it 
to  the  public,  making,  at  the  same  time,  such  additions 
from  his  own  researches  as  may  help  to  settle  the  question. 
That  is  my  excuse  for  this  volume.  If  people  were  afraid 
to  offer  rebutting  evidence  because  all  the  leading  literary 
authorities  had  declared  that  there  was  no  evidence 
against  them  that  was  not  "irrational,"  we  should  make 
very  slow  progress  in  research. 

Look  at  theology ;  how  often  have  the  big  guns  and 
canons  of  the  Church  declared  that  the  evidence  for  the 
antipodes  and  the  motion  of  the  earth  was  "  irrational." 
If  no  one  had  ventured  to  oppose  this  idea  in  the  face  of 
their  tremendous  authority,  we  might  still  all  be  holding 
the  apparently  very  sensible  opinion  that  the  earth  is 
fixed  and  fiat. 

To  me  the  question  of  the  authorship  of  those  im- 
mortal works  which  have  so  long  borne  on  them  the  name 
of  William  Shakespeare  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  we 
can  discuss  in  literary  criticism.  I  hold  in  addition,  that 
the  whole  matter  should  be  discussed  without  heat, 
without  prejudice  (though  that  is  very  hard),  and  without 


viii  PREFACE 

vituperation.  The  last  requisite  ought  to  be  very  easy, 
for  surely  vituperation  is  no  argument,  neither  is  it  any 
assistance  to  argument  with  right-judging  people.  But 
the  orthodox  Shakespearians  have  not  as  a  rule  fulfilled 
the  last  literary  requisite,  and  I  hope  I  shall  not  be 
reckoned  uncourteous  if  now  and  then  in  the  following 
pages  I  take  occasion  to  notice  it. 

For  the  literary  services  of  Mr.  Sidney  Lee,  who  is 
the  generalissimo  of  the  orthodox  party,  I  have  the 
highest  esteem  and  respect.  His  numerous  articles  in 
the  "  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  "  are  the  models 
of  what  such  notices  should  be;  but  when  he  writes 
in  the  Times  or  elsewhere  on  the  Bacon-Shakespeare 
question  he  seems  a  different  man,  and  has  no  ex- 
pressions too  severe  to  use  against  "  irrational " 
Baconians. 

I  have  been  obliged  to  point  out  the  errors  and  in- 
consistencies of  the  chief  Shakespearians  whereby  they 
often  refute  each  other.  Of  course  this  is  an  accessory 
to  my  argument,  and  I  have  a  right  to  avail  myself  of 
it,  but  I  shall  be  indeed  sorry  if  it  can  be  shown  that 
I  have  spoken  discourteously  of  any  one,  for  this  reason, 
if  for  none  other,  that  such  a  method  defeats  its  own 
object. 

We  must  not  forget,  however,  that  this  great  literary 
question  is  still  sub  judice  ;  neither  party  is  out  of  the 
wood  yet,  or  out  of  court  either.  All  the  talents  may 
yet  prove  to  be  only  blind  leaders  of  the  blind,  and  the 
ditch  they  are  to  fall  into  may  not  be  very  far  off. 

Remember  the  cognoscenti  in  the  witchcraft  delusions 
of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  and  what  a 
big  ditch  they  are  all  buried  in  now.  They  were  the  "  big 
battalions  "  with  a  vengeance,  and  only  a  stolid  champion 


PREFACE  ix 

here  and  there  could  be  found  to  oppose  them.  Their 
arguments  were  irresistible,  even  as  the  Shakespearian 
arguments  are  irresistible — "  Thou  shalt  not  suffer  a 
witch  to  live  "  (Exod.  xxii.  i8).  If  that  was  not  a  final 
and  unimpeachable  argument,  where  could  there  by  any 
possibility  be  one?  The  Word  of  God  definitely  states 
that  witches  exist,  and  are  to  be  killed  off-hand. 

So  that  question  was  settled. 

In  our  matter  Ben  Jonson,  who  knew  Shakespeare  as 
well  as  any  man  living,  and  knew  Bacon  equally  well, 
declared  in  black  and  white  again  and  again  in  the  first 
collected  edition  of  the  Shakespeare-Plays  that  Shake- 
speare, the  Swan  of  Avon,  was  the  man  who  wrote  them, 
and  several  other  contemporary  writers  virtually  said  the 
same  thing.  If  we  have  not  here  a  final  and  convincing 
argument,  where  can  one  be  found  better  ?  So  that 
question  is  settled,  and  the  only  question  that  no  one 
seems  able  to  settle  is,  "  Why  on  earth  do  not  the  Baconians 
give  up  their  foUy  ?  " 

Now,  what  are  we  to  say  to  such  things  ?  Well,  surely 
this  much  ;  that  in  literary  judgments,  and  in  our  judg- 
ment of  other  matters  as  well,  the  most  cultivated  and 
judicious  men  of  the  age  may  be  both  right  and  wrong. 
That  is  to  say,  they  may  be  right  according  to  the  lights 
and  knowledge  of  their  age,  and  their  judgment  quite  a 
sane  one  according  to  the  evidence  before  them  ;  hut — and 
there  is  everything  in  this  hut — there  may  be  a  great  deal 
of  evidence  not  before  them ;  many  facts  which  cannot, 
at  the  time,  be  brought  into  court  because  they  are  then 
unknown ;  facts  which  throw  a  totally  different  light  on 
the  testimony  to  be  dealt  with. 

Up  till  now  I  have  been  altogether  an  outsider,  a  non- 
combatant  without  the  slightest  wound  or  scratch  that 


X  PREFACE 

could  fester  or  rankle,  but  herewith  I  join  the  ranks  and 
the  fight  and  shall  look  out  for  blows. 

Besides  the  ordinary  weapons  of  this  Forty  Years' 
War  I  have  accoutred  myself  with  a  few  new  and  fancy 
weapons  of  my  own,  and  this  is  my  chief  excuse  for 
'listing  for  the  fray.  I  want  to  prove  my  arms.  My 
fear  is,  that  being  a  raw  recruit  I  may  shoot,  through 
want  of  discipline,  some  of  my  own  side. 

My  arguments  and  illustrations  are  mainly  based  on 
the  Sonnets  and  the  Poems  as  being  fresher  and,  as  I  hope 
to  show,  more  productive  ground. 

This  ground  has  been  avoided  by  most  Baconians,  and 
triumphantly  claimed  as  Shakespeare's  by  all  the  orthodox 
talent.  However,  I  hope  to  show  clearly  that  both  Poems 
and  Sonnets  alike  came  from  the  marvellous  brain  of 
Francis  Bacon. 

There  is  really  no  need  for  much  preface.  We  must 
not  stay  too  long  in  this  vestibule,  or  some  cryptograms 
may  be  discovered.  I  will  therefore  only  say  here  what 
I  have  also  repeated  at  the  back  door  or  finis  of  this 
book.  I  wish  this  work  to  be  considered  tentative,  and 
not  the  creation  of  a  predominant  idea.  I  would  give 
up  my  Rival  Poets,  my  loose-legged  Lais,  my  Dark  Lady, 
together  with  dancing  Mary  Fitton,  and  all  the  Adonis- 
like young  damsels  in  doublet,  hose,  and  codpiece,  who 
may  have  taken  Bacon's  curious  fancy; — I  would  renounce 
them  all,  or  any  other  false  or  irregular  moves  I  may 
have  made  in  this  difficult  game ; — nay,  I  would  suffer 
fools  gladly,  and  take  a  checkmate  from  wise  critics  with 
a  joyful  countenance,  if  they  would  only  treat  this 
interesting  matter  seriously,  and  play  fair. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.  Bacon  "Shows  his  Head"       .....        i 
II.  Marston  and  Hall  reveal  Bacon        .       .       .12 

III.  The  Scandal  :    External  Evidence     ...      32 

IV.  The  Scandal:    Internal  Evidence      .       .        .53 

4/ V.  Was  the  Author  of  the  Shakespeare   Poems 

and  Sonnets  a  Scholar? 66 

VI.  Ben  Jonson  and  Bacon 81 

VII.  Progress  and  Prejudice 107 

VIII.  Some   Orthodox   Shakespearians   put   in   the 

Witness-Box 116 

IX.  The  Proofs  of  Baconian  Authorship  as  Deduced 
FROM  THE  History  of  the  Three  Prominent 
Elizabethan    Earls  —  Southampton,     Pem- 
broke, and  Essex 129 

X.  The  Proof  from   Contemporary  Letters  and 

Books 169 

XI.  The  Sonnets 190 

XII.  Of  the  Parallelisms  and  Identities  between 
THE  Plays  of  Shakespeare  and  the  Acknow- 
ledged Works  of  Bacon 251 

XI I I.  Had  Bacon  a  Mistress,  or  was  he  Inclined  to 

BE  A  Misogynist? 253 

XIV.  Bacon  as  a  Poet 267 

xi 


xii  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PACK 

XV.  New  Evidence  connecting  Bacon  with  Pallas 

AND  THE  Hyphenated  Shake-speare      .       .281 

XVI.  Some  Notable  Megalomanic  Features  in  the 

Character  of  Francis  Bacon  .       .       .       .293 

XVII.  Certain  Unusual  Circumstances  and  Hints 
connected  with  the  Poems  and  Plays  of 
William  Shakespeare 307 

XVIII.  Why  did  Francis  Bacon  Conceal  his  Identity? 

Summary  of  Difficulties  and  Objections  .    320 

APPENDIX  .        . 351 

INDEX 371 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Portrait  of  Francis  Bacon,  from  the  First  Edition 

OF  Sylva  Sylvarum Frontispiece 

Facsimile  of  the  Opening  Stanzas  of  the  "Rape  of 

Lucrece"  (First  Edition)     .        .        .     To  face  page       4 

Facsimile  of   the  Last  Stanzas  of  the 

"Rape  of  Lucrece"  (First  Edition)  .        ,,         „  6 


IS    IT    SHAKESPEARE? 


CHAPTER  I 

BACON    "  SHOWS   HIS 

I  HAVE  often  thought  that  the  Sonnets  were  the  real  keys 
wherewith  the  great  secret  of  the  true  authorship  might 
perchance  be  discovered,  and  I  have  been  extremely 
surprised  that  all  the  prominent  Baconians  for  the  most 
part  confined  their  researches  and  attacks  to  the  ground 
occupied  by  the  immortal  Plays  of  William  Shakespeare. 
And  yet  the  Sonnets  have  every  appearance  of  being 
autobiographical.  They  seem  to  be  genuine  though 
artfully-concealed  presentiments  of  striking  events  and 
passionate  feelings  that  had  occurred  again  and  again 
in  the  author's  personal  experience  ;  whereas  we  do  not 
expect  a  tragedy  or  a  comedy,  or  indeed  any  dramatic 
work  put  on  the  boards  of  a  public  theatre,  to  contain 
direct  and  emphatic  allusions  to  the  author's  life.  More- 
over, a  very  cursory  survey  of  special  phrases  and  parallel 
expressions  in  the  Sonnets  and  the  Plays,  will  show  at 
once  that  both  the  Sonnets  and  the  Plays  are  undoubtedly 
the  work  of  one  and  the  same  author.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  the  Baconians,  who  might  reasonably  expect  here 
a  rich  mine  for  their  explorations,  have  passed  by  the 
Sonnets  and  Poems  with  hardly  a  glance,  and  have  left 
the  many  personal  incidents  in  them  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  thorough-paced  Shakespearians,  by  whom  they  have 
been  rent  almost  limb  by  limb  in  order  to  give  to  the 
mysterious  ''sole  begetter,"  Mr.  W.  H.,  a  local  habitation 
and  a  name. 

A 


2  BACON    "SHOWS   HIS   HEAD" 

I  hope  to  show  that  the  Sonnets  are  much  better 
keys  to  unlock  the  secret  than  the  Plays,  and  contain 
by  far  the  strongest  and  clearest  indications  of  the  true 
author."'         *,*■':;   : 

For  instance,  we  will. take  Sonnet  xxvi.,  and  see  how 
it  reveals,  ijie  \iery  iiam.e  pf  the  hidden  author. 

XXVI 

Lord  of  my  love,  to  whom  in  vassalage 

Thy  merit  hath  my  duty  strongly  knit, 

To  thee  I  send  this  written  embassage, 

To  witness  duty,  not  to  show  my  wit  : 

Duty  so  great,  which  wit  so  poor  as  mine 

May  make  seem  bare  in  wanting  words  to  show  it, 

But  that  I  hope  some  good  conceit  of  thine 

In  thy  soul's  thought  (all  naked)  will  bestow  it ; 

Till  whatsoever  star  that  guides  my  moving 

Points  on  me  graciously  with  fair  aspect, 

And  puts  apparel  on  my  tattered  loving. 

To  show  me  worthy  of  thy  sweet  respect  : 

Then  may  I  dare  to  boast  how  I  do  love  thee. 

Till  then  not  show  my  head  where  thou  may'st  prove  me. 

This  Sonnet,  as  all  critics  admit,  has  an  interesting 
and  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  dedication  of  Lucrece 
to  the  Earl  of  Southampton  in  1594,  which  was  signed  by 
William  Shakespeare.  This  Sonnet  is  certainly  addressed 
to  some  one  in  high  position ;  the  words  vassalage  and 
embassage  settle  that.  It  also  seems  to  be  the  concluding 
Sonnet  (L'envoi)  of  a  sequence  (xviii.-xxvi.),  where 
deep  love  and  admiration  are  expressed  for  a  high-bom 
youth,  and  where  the  author,  although  he  rather  au- 
daciously claims  immortality  for  his  verse  (S.  xvii.), 
still  for  "  fear  of  trust  "  does  not  go  the  whole  length  of 
expressing  his  love,  or,  as  it  appears,  even  his  name  as 
yet,  but  the  verses  or  "  books  "  that  he  sends  are  to  be 
the  "dumb  presagers"  of  his  "speaking  breast"  (S.  xxiii.). 
And  he  finishes,  in  this  last  Sonnet  of  the  sequence 
(xxvi.),  by  hoping  that  his  young  friend  will  have  such 
a  "  good  conceit  "  of  the  bare  verses  sent,  that  he  will 
take  them  in  and  cherish  them  in  their  nakedness  ;   and 


THE   DEDICATION  3 

then,  the  author  hints,  if  his  stars  lend  auspicious  help 
to  his  future  movements — 

"  Then  may  I  dare  to  boast  how  I  do  love  thee, 
Till  then  not  show  my  head  where  thou  may'st  prove  me." 

Now  we  shall  see  how  the  author  lets  out  the  great 
secret  in  those  words  show  my  head. 

This  Sonnet  (xxvi.)  naturally  leads  us  to  make  a 
closer  examination  of  the  dedication  of  Lucrece,  with 
which  it  is  evidently  connected. 

The  dedication  reads  as  follows  : 

THE   RAPE   OF  LUCRECE 

TO   THE 

Right  Honourable  HENRY  WRIOTHESLEY 
Earle  of  Southampton,  and  Baron  of  Titchfield 

The  love  I  dedicate  to  your  Lordship  is  without  end :  whereof 
this  Pamphlet  without  beginning  is  but  a  superfluous  Moity. 
The  warrant  I  have  of  your  Honourable  disposition,  not  the 
worth  of  my  untutored  Lines,  makes  it  assured  of  acceptance. 
What  I  have  done  is  yours,  what  I  have  to  do  is  yours,  being 
part  in  all  I  have,  devoted  yours.  Were  my  worth  greater,  my 
duety  would  show  greater ;  meane  time,  as  it  is,  it  is  bound  to  your 
Lordship :  to  whom  I  wish  long  life  still  lengthned  with  all 
happinesse. 

Your  Lordship's  in  all  duety, 

William  Shakespeare. 

Now  all  this  seems  plain  and  straightforward  enough, 
except  the  apparently  unmeaning  and  unnecessary 
remark  about  "  this  Pamphlet  without  beginning " 
being  "  but  a  superfluous  Moity." 

Such  a  curious  statement  naturally  leads  one  to 
examine  the  "  beginning  "  of  the  Pamphlet  in  its  first 
edition  as  presented  and  dedicated  to  Southampton, 
and  lo  !    Bacon  "  shows  his  head  "  at  once,  for  the  first 

two  lines  are  headed  by  this  monogram  pg,  i.e.  Fr.  B., 
which  may  well  be  called  also  a  superfluous  moiety  of 
Fr.  B I  aeon,  Fr.  representing  one  half  of  his  name  with 
the  superfluous  B  flowing  over  from  the  other  half. 


4        BACON  "SHOWS  HIS  HEAD" 

This  seems  promising,  but  the  first  few  words  of  the 
dedication  seem  to  harp  on  the  antitheses  "  without 
end"  and  "without  beginning."  Let  us  therefore, 
since  we  have  taken  away  the  author's  head  from  the 
first  two  lines  where  he  showed  it,  and  so  have  rendered 
the  Pamphlet  without  beginning,  let  us  take  away  the 
endings  of  the  last  two  lines,  and  see  if  we  can  find  whose 
is  the  love  that  is  "  without  end."  We  do  this,  and  out 
comes  BACON,  neither  more  nor  less.  By  itself,  without 
the  index  finger  of  the  last  line  of  Sonnet  xxvi.,  this  is 
a  neat  and  curious  discovery,  and  the  credit  of  it  is  due 
to  a  German  publisher  and  printer  who  has  devoted 
much  time  to  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  secret,  and  has 
recently  written  several  books  on  the  subject.  I  claim 
to  have  rendered  the  discovery  much  more  valid  and 
probable,  nay,  almost  certain,  by  connecting  it  with 
the  promise  of  the  author,  in  a  Sonnet  that  was  evidently 
connected  with  Lucrece,  to  "  show  his  head  "  if  things 
turned  out  well  and  his  friend  wished  to  prove  his 
identity. 

The  first  two  lines  of  Lucrece  are  : 

FRoM  the  besiged  Ardea  all  in  post 
Borne  by  the  trustless  wings  of  false  desire. 

The  last  two  are  : 

The  Romans  plausibly  did  give  consent 
To  Tarquin's  everlasting  ^^nishment. 

FINIS 

If  we  take  all  the  larger  capitals  in  the  first  two  lines 
we  get  "  Fra.  B.,"  which  is  another  way  of  signing  Bacon's 
name,  and  is  exactly  the  moiety  of  the  whole  signature, 
viz.  "  Fra.  Bjacon,"  and  is  again,  as  before,  a  superfluous 
or  overflowing  moiety. 

There  is  another  "  undesigned  coincidence "  which 
lends  a  great  air  of  probability  to  this  little  cipher  device 
at  the  beginning  of  Lucrece.  It  is  this.  No  doubt  Bacon 
shows  his  head  pretty  plainly,  or  seems  to  do  so,  when 


f 


•I 


T  H  E    R  AP  EOF 

L  V  C  R  E  C  E. 

FR  OM  the befiegcd  Ardea  all  in  poO-^ 
Borne  by  die  truftleflfe  wings d^ftalfc  defirc, 
Luft-brcathedTARQyiNjleaucstheRomanhoflj ; 
And  to  Colatium  beat  c$  the  lightlefTc  firc^ 
Which  in  pale  embers  hid^  lurkcs  to  afptrcj 
And  girdle  with  embracing  flames^  the  wail: 
Of  Cot  A  TINES  fair  loue,  L  v  c  r  e  c  e  the  chaftt 

Haply  that  name  of  chaft,  vnhaply  (ct 
This  bateleffe  edge  on  his  keene  appetite: 
When  C  o  L  A  T I  n  synwifely  did  not  let, 
To  praifc  the  cleare  vnmatched  red  and  whitc^ 
Which  triumpht  in  that  skie  of  his  delight: 
Where  mortal  ftars  as  bright  as  heaues  Bcautie^ 
With  pure  afpcAs  did  him  peculiar  dueties* 


-iiiSiiffiSlii 

OPENING    STANZAS    OF    THE    FIRST    EDITION    OF 
THE    "RAPE   OF   LUCRECE " 

To  face  p.  4 


THE   SIGNATURE  5 

we  take  the  hints  of  the  dedication  and  the  Sonnet  xxvi. 
in  connection  with  it :  but  some  one  might  say,  "  Oh, 
it's  notiiing,  no  proof  at  all,  merely  a  coincidence,  a  mere 
chance  arrangement  of  letters ; "  and  then  another 
objector  might  add,  "  Fra.  B.  is  not  the  usual  signature 
of  Bacon  to  his  correspondents  or  his  lovers; "  and  another, 
would  exclaim,  "  I  can  safely  say,  and  you  may  take  my 
word  for  it,  that  Bacon  never  signed  a  letter  in  the 
absurd  form  Fra  B.  in  his  life." 

In  reply  to  such  assertions,  I  would  simply  adduce 
the  following  remarkable  coincidence,  viz.,  that  when 
Francis  Bacon  was  about  twenty  (c.  1580)  he  wrote 
several  letters  to  his  uncle  and  aunt  (Lord  and  Lady 
Burghley)  all  signed  B.  Fra. 

This  additional  piece  of  corroborative  evidence  was 
unknown  to  the  German  investigator,  nor  did  he  bring 
in  the  Sonnet  as  an  auxiliary,  so  that  now  the  force  of 
the  Baconian  proof  is  considerably  strengthened.  How- 
ever, as  no  one  took  any  heed  of  it  when  he  produced 
it  in  1900,  I  do  not  suppose  any  one  will  deign  to  notice 
it  now,  or  if  they  do,  it  will  be  deemed  quite  sufficient 
to  say  that  the  printer  put  it  so  by  accident,  that  the 
author's  MS.  began  so  by  accident  and  finished  so  by 
accident,  that  the  "  moiety  "  and  "  duety  "  and  "  begin- 
ning "  and  "  end  "  were  all  expressions  of  no  particular 
significance,  tending  rather  to  confuse  than  elucidate 
the  poem,  and  that  as  for  Fra.  B.  being  like  Bacon's 
"  head,"  it  was  no  more  like  it  than  an  Aunt  Sally  at 
a  fair.  However,  such  criticisms  have  now  somewhat 
lost  their  edge,  and  are  too  common  and  blunt  to  disturb 
our  equanimity.  But  before  they  begin  to  slash,  I 
would  ask  them  to  consider  also  the  following  points 
connected  with  this  same  piece  of  evidence.  The  North- 
umberland Manuscript,  which  is  about  the  only  piece 
of  documentary  evidence  we  possess  that  connects  the 
two  names  Shakespeare  and  Bacon,  has  among  other 
scribblings  this  line  from  Lucrece  : 

"  Revealing  day  through  everie  Crany  peepes." 


6  BACON    "SHOWS  HIS   HEAD" 

It  is  not  scribbled  down  quite  correctly,  because  line 
1086  of  Lucrece  is  : 

" Revealing  day  through  everie  Crany  spies" 

This  shows  that  the  writer  quoted  it  from  memory.  But 
is  it  not  also  a  hint  from  some  one  that  the  revealing 
light  of  day  would  peep  out  of  some  cranny,  some  hole 
or  corner  of  Lucrece,  one  of  these  days  ? 

Strange  to  say,  though  Spedding  notices  the  MS.  at 
some  length,  and  quotes  the  line,  he  does  not  say  where 
the  line  came  from  originally.  Possibly  he  did  not  know. 
Certainly  Lucrece  had  no  revealing  light  to  throw  on  his 
Bacon,  and  yet  he  knew  Bacon  better  than  any  one  else 
in  the  whole  world  ! 

The  other  point  is,  that  if  we  include  the  word  FINIS 
which  is  placed  underneath  the  last  two  lines,  and  take  its 
first  letter  F,  and  draw  a  line  at  an  angle  upwards  through 
the  last  two  lines  in  the  direction  of  ha  and  con,  we  get 
F.  BACON,  thus : 

The  Romaines  plausibly  did  give  con/ sent 
To    Tarquins    everlasting    ba^^ishment. 


INIS 

And  this  is  a  way  that  some  writers  have  used  to  get 
their  names  upon  the  title-pages  of  their  works  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  be  there  without  any  one  noticing  them. 

Some  of  the  Shakespeare  Quartos  have  words  oddly 
divided  on  their  title-pages,  and  the  syllable  con,  the  latter 
part  of  Bacon,  is  often  prominently  put  forward  there, 
but  the  general  result  is  too  fanciful  at  present  to  attach 
much  importance  to  it,  unless  it  be  considerably  improved. 

Nor  must  I  omit  another  circumstance  which  is  at 
least  rather  suggestive. 

Ben  Jonson  in  161 6  dedicated  his  Epigrams  to  William 
Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  plainly  insinuated  that 
in  some  dedications  titles  had  been  changed  in  a  more 
audacious  manner  than  Ben  Jonson  ventured  to  imitate, 


tHE   RAPE  OFLW^CRECX. 

This  fayd,  he  ftrookc  his  hand  vpon  his  br  caft, 
And  kift  the  fatall  knife  to  end  his  vow : 
And  to  his  proteftation  vrg'd  the  rcft^ 
Who  wondringat  him,  did  his  wotds  allow. 
Then  ioymlie  to  the  ground  their  knees  they  bow. 
And  that  dcepc  vow  which  Brvtvs  m^de  before, 
He  doth  againe  repeat,  and  that  they  iMorc.  , 

When  they  had  fwome  to  this  aduifcd  doomc, 
They  did  conclude  to  bcare  dead  Lvcrece  thence, 
To  (hew  her  bleeding  bodie  thorough  Roome, 
And  Co  to  puWifli  T  a  r  q^v  i  n s  fowlc  ofFencej 
Which  being  done,  with  fpecdic  diligence. 
The  Romaincs  plaufiblydidgiucconfcnc. 
To  TaRQv  INS  eucrlaftingbanilhmcnt. 

N 
FINIS. 


CLOSING    STANZAS    OF    THE    FIRST    EDITION    OF 
THE    "RAPE   OF   LUCRECE  ^' 


To  face  /.  6 


ANOTHER   DEDICATION  7 

and  also  that  some  authors'  consciences  caused  them 
of  necessity  to  employ  a  cipher  for  concealment.  This 
may  be  a  hit  at  the  cipher  and  dedication  of  Lucrece 
before  noticed,  for  I  verily  believe  Jonson  knew  far  more 
of  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  secret  than  any  of  his  con- 
temporaries, as  I  hope  to  show  further  on. 
The  dedication  of  the  Epigrams  in  16 16  is  : 

"  My  Lord, — While  you  cannot  change  your  merit  I  dare  not 
change  your  title;  it  was  that  made  it,  not  I.  Under  which 
name  I  here  offer  to  your  Lordship  the  ripest  of  my  studies, 
my  Epigrams;  which  though  they  cany  danger  in  the  sound, 
do  not  therefore  seek  your  shelter;  for  when  I  made  them,  I 
had  nothing  in  my  conscience  to  expressing  of  which  I  did  need 
a  cipher." 

The  "head"  or  beginning  of  Lucrece  is  strictly  a 
cipher  in  one  of  the  senses  of  the  word,  for  the  definition 
of  the  N.  E.  D.  gives  us  "  (6)  An  intertexture  of  letters, 
especially  the  initials  of  a  name,  a  literal  device,  mono- 
gram," and  quotes  an  example  from  Massinger  of  date 
1631. 

While  on  this  word  cipher  let  me  say  plainly  that  I 
am  an  utter  disbeliever  in  the  cryptograms  and  biliteral 
ciphers  of  certain  well-advertised  American  authors, 
Mrs.  Gallup  to  wit,  and  others.  They  are  hardly  worthy 
of  notice,  and  have  done  more  to  discredit  the  discussion 
of  an  unusually  interesting  literary  problem  than  any- 
thing else  I  can  call  to  mind. 

Whether  there  is  or  is  not  a  cipher  in  the  first  folio 
Shakespeare  remains  for  the  present  a  question  certainly 
not  to  be  determined  off-hand.  But  I  must  say  that 
the  likelihood  of  finding  one  there  is  by  no  means  to 
be  dogmatically  set  aside.  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  is  not  justified 
in  saying  positively  there  is  no  cipher  in  the  folio  Shake- 
speare. I  am  surprised  that  he  ventures  on  so  bold 
and  dogmatic  an  assertion,  seeing  that  he  is  a  member 
of  the  Bibliographical  Society,  and  therefore  in  a  good 
position  to  be  acquainted  with  a  neat  little  monograph 
on  Some  Elizabethan  Cipher-hooks  to  be  found  in  the 


8  BACON    "SHOWS   HIS   HEAD" 

Transactions  of  that  Society,  and  read  i8th  March  1901. 
We  learn  there  that  the  poHticians  of  the  parties  of 
Essex  and  Burghley  Hved  in  an  atmosphere,  so  to  speak, 
of  ciphers,  and  such  men  as  the  two  brothers  Anthony 
and  Francis  Bacon  would  be  thorough  experts  of  the  art. 
The  ciphers  were  of  the  most  varied  kinds — astronomical, 
zodiacal,  multi-literal,  cabalistic,  and  cryptogrammatic* 
It  seems  that  Lord  Burghley's  favourite  device  was  the 
zodiacal,  i.e.  using  the  signs  of  the  zodiac  for  the  names 
of  persons  referred  to.  This  reminds  me  that  when  look- 
ing at  the  well-known  Baconian  relic  called  the  Valerius 
Terminus  MS.,  I  noticed  some  signs  of  this  kind  scribbled 
at  the  foot  of  a  page  ;  but  whether  an  attempt  has  been 
made  to  translate  them,  I  know  not.  These  were  sup- 
posed only  to  refer  to  the  date  of  the  MS.  But  the 
reading  of  this  little  monograph  is  apt  to  make  one  less 
of  a  scoffer  at  those  who  work  on  the  Bacon-cipher  tread- 
mill. I  fear  these  workers  are  in  many  cases  mere 
"  cranks,"  but  the  theory  itself  is  certainly  not  an 
"  empty  delusion."  Neither  do  I  believe  that  the 
italicised  words  in  the  Sonnets  are  without  some  hidden 
allusion. 

This  monogram  cipher  of  Lucrece  is  one  of  the  very 
few  direct,  external,  and  visible  proofs  that  we  have  as 
to  the  authorship  of  the  Sonnets.  It  is  surprising,  as 
we  shall  see,  to  what  a  degree  this  Baconian  evidence 
simplifies  the  Sonnets  controversy,  and  the  question 
of  the  youth  to  whom  they  were  addressed.-  There  has 
been  for  many  years  almost  a  pitched  battle  between 
the  Herbertites  and  the  Southamptonites,  and  the  most 
prominent  general  of  the  contending  armies  has  com- 
pletely changed  his  colours,  or  rather  his  camp,  at  least 
once,  and  perhaps  more  often,  for  I  have  only  lately 
come  on  the  field  and  go  by  hearsay.  I  hear,  too,  that 
his    last    dictum    is    that   Shakespeare    had    never    any 

*  Sir  Robert  Cecil  writes  to  Anth.  Bacon  19th  May  1592  :  "  My  lord  desires 
you  to  send  a  cipher  which  you  may  make  yourself — especially  for  his  adver- 
tising of  Names — which  will  serve,  though  the  alphabets  of  Letters  often  be 
discovered." 


"SOMETHING  ROTTEN"  9 

intimate  acquaintance  with  William  Herbert  at  all,  or  at 
most  nothing  much  beyond  official  recognition. 

Well  then,  in  that  case,  who  in  the  world  wrote  the 
Sonnets  ? 

The  amount  of  labour  and  ingenuity  that  devoted 
and  learned  Shakespearians  have  bestowed  upon  eluci- 
dating the  Sonnets  has  been  enormous.  For  instance, 
in  1888  Gerald  Massey  sends  forth  a  huge  quarto  of 
nearly  500  pages,  entitled  The  Secret  Drama  of  Shake- 
speare's Sonnets,  and  proves  without  a  shadow  of  doubt 
in  his  own  mind,  when  and  where  Shakespeare  wrote  the 
Sonnets,  to  whom  and  for  whom  they  were  addressed, 
and  without  hesitation  fixes  on  the  Dark  Lady  and  the 
Rival  Poet. 

Two  years  later,  in  1890,  Mr.  Thomas  Tyler,  with 
equal,  if  not  greater,  knowledge  of  the  subject,  writes 
another  most  learned,  careful,  and  exhaustive  book  on 
these  same  Sonnets,  proving  conclusively  (?)  that  Shake- 
speare wrote  all  the  Sonnets  to  one  young  man,  Mr.  W.  H., 
whose  Christian  name  was  William,  and  his  full  title 
William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  that  Shakespeare 
hardly  had  any  intimacy  with  the  young  nobleman  that 
Gerald  Massey  had  backed  through  thick  and  thin  for 
500  pages.  Moreover,  he  brings  forward  a  totally  differ- 
ent Dark  Lady  and  a  different  Rival  Poet. 

Then  the  general  comes  on  the  scene  (having  recently 
changed  his  tactics),  and  authoritatively  declares,  that 
as  for  Mr.  Tyler's  young  man  William  Herbert,  and  his 
Dark  Lady,  Mistress  Fitton,  he,  Sidney  Lee,  could  say 
with  confidence  that  Shakespeare  had  no  acquaintance 
with  either  of  them,  except  of  a  most  distant  and  reserved 
nature.  Now,  when  great  experts  and  men  perfectly 
competent  to  deal  with  the  question  annihilate  each 
other  in  this  ridiculous  fashion,  lookers-on  naturally 
conclude  that  there  must  be  something  rotten  in  the 
state  of  Denm.ark — something  radically  wrong  with  all 
three  elucidators — and  so,  I  contend,  there  was.  They 
were  all  three  building  on  a  wrong  foundation,  arguing 
from   false  premises,   and  assuming   the  wrong  author 


lo  BACON    "SHOWS   HIS   HEAD" 

for  the  very  subject-matter  they  were  deaHng  with. 
They  assumed  a  plebeian  to  be  the  author  instead  of  a 
patrician,  they  argued  on  the  primary  supposition  of 
WiUiam  Shakespeare,  backed  up  by  a  long  line  of  tradi- 
tional authority,  to  which  they  attached  such  over- 
whelming importance,  that  the  very  mention  of  the 
patrician  Bacon  was  left  by  them  to  the  half-educated 
and  the  irrational !  Their  mutually-destructive  theories 
ought  to  have  made  them  less  dictatorial;  but  some 
people  are  too  confident  either  to  take  advice  or  to  learn 
that  they  can  possibly  be  wrong.  But,  of  all  people, 
I  ought  to  be  least  angry  with  these  magisterial  and 
self-sufficient  Shakespearians,  for  it  was  the  unpleasantly 
contemptuous  tone  of  certain  letters  to  the  Times  not 
very  long  ago,  which  first  induced  me  to  buy  a  few 
more  special  books  and  to  give  some  pleasant  hours  to 
a  subject  in  which  I  had  previously  only  a  passing  inte- 
rest, and  which  I  thought  could  not  yet  be  decided  for 
want  of  sufficient  evidence. 

I  by  no  means  assert  that  there  is  absolutely  complete 
evidence  now.  Indeed,  for  people  who  are  prejudiced 
no  evidence  can  be  complete.  But  I  claim  to  have 
added  a  few  more  bricks  to  the  Baconian  building,  and 
also  to  have  somewhat  strengthened  the  foundation, 
which  to  so  many  sane  and  sensible  people  of  my  own 
acquaintance  seems  an  absolutely  rotten  and  foolishly 
impossible  one. 

But  before  I  quite  leave  this  important  evidence 
from  Liicrece  and  the  Sonnet  corresponding  to  it,  I  will 
bring  forward  some  hints  from  Bacon's  acknowledged 
works  which  seem  to  favour  the  reality  and  genuineness 
of  this  Lucretian  discovery,  and  later  on  will  attack  the 
still  more  curious  problem  of  the  "  Scandal "  in  the 
Sonnets,  after  I  have  shown  that  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  two  contemporary  satirists  had  discovered 
Bacon's  secret  as  early  as  1598.  Both  these  chapters 
of  evidence  will  be  quite  new. 

Enough,  and  perhaps  more  than  enough,  has  been 
said  of  this  first  item  of  evidence  that  I  adduce. 


THE   STOCK  ARGUMENT  ii 

The  next  chapter,  I  hope,  will  be  even  more  novel 
and  convincing.  Shakespearians  are  always  dwelling  on 
their  great  stock  argument  that  "  all  the  poet's  con- 
temporaries recognised  him  as  the  author  of  his  own 
works,  and  that  they,  if  any  are  to  judge,  ought  to  be 
best  able  to  decide  the  question  of  authorship.  They 
did  decide  it  unanimously,  and  there's  an  end  of  the 
controversy  to  all  who  are  not  '  irrational,'  or  are  not 
'  cranks  '  best  in  an  asylum." 

This,  or  something  like  it,  is  their  favourite  piece  de 
resistance.  I  shall  now  try  to  show  that  two  well-known 
contemporaries,  at  least,  knew  that  Bacon  wrote  the 
Shakespeare  Poems,  and  whispered  the  secret  pretty 
distinctly,  but  no  one  seemed  to  hear  it. 


CHAPTER  II 

MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

It  is  an  odd  circumstance  that  we  cannot  be  at  all  certain 
what  manner  of  man  Shakespeare  was  in  facial  expression. 
The  arguments  and  controversies  about  the  various 
portraits  of  him  which  have  come  down  to  us,  have  filled 
hundreds  of  pages  without  much  positive  result.  He 
seems  to  have  had  a  reddish  hue  (Rufus)  and  to  have 
been  a  man  of  good  presence ;  that  seems  about  as  much 
as  we  can  say,  and  that  is  not  positively  agreed  upon. 
Of  course  this  "  personal  matter "  is  very  interesting 
to  some  people.  As  late  as  July  26,  1902,  a  contributor 
to  Notes  and  Queries  thought  he  had  made  a  discovery 
in  this  direction  at  last — Shakespeare  was  a  man  with 
large  lips.     Here  is  his  evidence. 

Marston  in  1598,  at  the  end  of  Pigmalion' s  Image, 
gives  to  some  contemporary  writer  the  nickname  ''Labeo," 
in  these  words  : 

"  So  Labeo  did  complain  his  love  was  stone, 
Obdurate,  flinty,  so  relentless  none  ; " 

which  certainly  looks  like  a  reference  to  Venus  and 
Adonis  (lines  200-201). 

The  discoverer  then  tells  us  :  "  According  to  Smith's 
Latin  -  English  Dictionary,  '  Labeo  '  =  '  the  one  who 
has  large  lips.' "  He  leaves  it  so,  virtually  considering 
it  a  Q.E.D.  and  that  he  has  added  a  feature  to  Shake- 
speare's face.  But  I  fear  he  has  done  nothing  of  the 
kind.  He  should  have  looked  up  his  Horace.  He 
would  have  found  Labeo  there,*  and  a  note  would  most 
likely  have  told  him  that  M.  Antistius  Labeo  was  a  rather 

*  *'  Labeone  insanior  inter 
Sanos  dicatur." — L  Sat.,  iii.  82. 


WHO   WAS   LABEO?  13 

famous  lawyer  who  by  his  free  and  perverse  tongue  had 
offended  his  emperor,  the  sensitive  Augustus.  This  will 
not  help  us  much  to  the  features  of  Shakespeare's  face ! 
Moreover,  the  critics  who  have  often  enough  exercised 
their  ingenuity  in  trying  to  find  out  who  this  Labeo 
might  be,  who  is  mentioned  more  than  once  both  by 
Hall  and  Marston,  have  generally  said  that  Hall's  Labeo 
was  Marston,  and  as  for  Marston' s  Labeo  have  ignored 
him  altogether.  Then  Dr.  Grosart  long  ago  showed  that 
Hall's  Labeo  could  not  be  Marston,  for  the  good  reason 
that  Marston  had  not  written  anything  then  for  Hall  to 
refer  to.  Then  it  was  suggested  that  Labeo  was  Chapman, 
a  nasty  thrust  if  really  the  case,  for  there  was  also  a 
Labeo  in  classic  times  who  translated  Homer  and  made 
a  frightful  and  unreadable  hash  of  it.  And  now  we  have 
Labeo,  a  thick-lipped  man  generally,  and  Shakespeare 
the  thick-lipped  one  in  particular. 

This  will  never  do ;  and  it  shows  us  the  danger  of  play- 
ing with  the  names,  chiefly  of  classic  origin,  with  which 
Hall  and  Marston,  and  Ben  Jonson  and  others  of  that 
age,  interlarded  their  satires,  comedies,  and  epigrams. 
These  University  wits  were  steeped  in  Horace,  Juvenal, 
Persius,  and  Ovid,  and  thence  brought  forth  a  nickname 
from  their  retentive  memory  whenever  an  occasion 
required  it.  But  we  must  be  cautious  in  our  attempts 
to  unveil  the  personages  satirised,  for  it  does  not  always 
follow  that  because  they  are  satirised  under  the  same 
borrowed  name,  they  are  therefore  the  same  persons. 
For  instance,  Marston  has  a  Tubrio  in  one  place,  who 
is  a  very  different  character  from  a  Tubrio  he  mentions 
in  another  place;  but  any  two  lewd-living,  boisterous, 
military  braggarts  could  be  included  under  the  generic 
name  Tubrio.  Indeed,  many  of  the  names  constantly 
met  with,  such  as  Luxurio,  GuUio,  Fortunio,  &c., 
are  simply  generic,  and  unless  a  striking  detail  is 
added,  it  is  useless  to  try  and  decipher  them.  Thus  in 
the  Poetaster  we  hear  a  good  deal  about  Crispinus  or 
Cri-spinas,  and  some  think  Jonson  is  girding  at  Shake- 
speare, and  some  that  Marston  is  the  man  meant.     In 


14     MARSTON   AND   HALL  REVEAL   BACON 

fact  he  sometimes  means  one  and  sometimes  the  other, 
and  so  shields  himself  from  direct  libel.  Once  or  twice 
he  gives  Crispinus  his  full  name,  Rufus  Laberius  Crispinus 
or  Cri-spinas,  and  it  has  been  thought  that  Rufus  referred 
to  Shakespeare's  red  hair,  that  Laberius  referred  to 
Shakespeare  also,  because  Laberius  was  a  playwright 
(mimographus)  who  used  new  and  bombastic  words.  And 
as  for  the  hj^phenated  Cri-spinas,  that  was  clearly  the 
hyphenated  Shake-speare. 

There  may  be  something  in  all  this,  but  we  must 
beware  of  carrying  it  too  far.  I  would  rather  take 
Laberius  to  belong  to  Martial,  Lib.  vi.  14,  which  is  a 
short  epigram  very  appropriate  to  Shakespeare,  and 
is  a  most  likely  source  for  Jonson  to  draw  upon.  But 
such  things  are  mere  details.  They  often,  however, 
are  useful  (if  we  can  be  sure  of  them),  in  giving  us 
Jonson's  earlier  views  as  to  Shakespeare  and  Bacon. 
And  the  same  may  be  said  of  Marston  and  Hall's 
use  of  Labeo,  if  what  they  meant  could  be  clearly 
ascertained. 

Fortunately  I  have  been  able  to  make  an  identifica- 
tion of  one  of  the  personages  in  the  Satires  of  Hall  and 
Marston,  which  will  prove  of  great  value  for  deciding 
the  Bacon-Shakespeare  controversy.  It  is  not  mere 
guess-work,  or  a  probable  solution,  as  so  many  of  the 
so-called  identities  are,  but  direct,  neat,  and  lucid.  The 
veil  was  artfully  adjusted  300  years  ago,  but  I  rather 
wonder  that  no  one  has  lifted  up  even  the  comer  of  it, 
or  even  touched  it  until  now. 

Its  importance  will  be  admitted  when  I  say  that  it 
points  out  in  a  singularly  clear  manner  that  it  was 
known  to  contemporaries  that  Bacon  was  the  author  of 
Venus  and  Adonis. 

The  proof  comes  out  in  the  literary  war  between 
Hall  and  Marston,  our  very  early  English  satirists. 
Hall  was  first  in  the  field  with  his  Toothless  Satires 
in  1597 ;  they  had  been  written  perhaps  some  years 
earlier.  Then  came  Marston  in  1598  with  his  Pigmalion's 
Image  and  certain  Satires  (May  27),  which  he  called  his 


THE   BOOKS   ARE   BURNT  15 

"  first  bloome  of  Poesy."  He  is  bitter  against  his  pre- 
decessor Hall,  but  for  what  reason  does  not  appear, 
unless  he  felt  forestalled  by  Hall  in  his  own  favourite 
vocation. 

Both  satirists  adopted  the  incisive  method  of  Juvenal 
and  Persius,  being  really  the  first  of  our  nation  thus 
to  imitate  the  ancients.  They  were  both  very  severe 
upon  the  vices  of  the  court  gallants  and  others  in  high 
place,  especially  Mars  ton  in  his  Scourge  of  Villainy 
which  followed  his  Satires,  shortly  afterwards  in  the 
same  year  1598  (Sept.  8). 

The  consequence  was  that  on  the  ist  June  1599, 
Marston's  Pigmalion  (spelled  Pygmalion  in  the  Registers) 
and  The  Scourge  of  Villainy,  and  Hall's  Satyres  and 
several  others,  were  suppressed  and  ordered  to  be  burnt 
at  the  instance  of  Whitgift,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  Barlow,  Bishop  of  London.  And  on  June  4,  Marston's 
books  were  burnt  in  the  garden  of  the  Stationers'  Company 
with  Da  vies'  Epigrams  and  some  others,  and  Hall's 
Satyres  were  stayed  and  Willohies  Avisa  called  in.  This 
looks  as  if  Whitgift  (Bacon's  friend  and  old  tutor)  had 
had  some  high  influence  brought  on  him  to  stop  these 
libels,  as  they  would  certainly  be  very  scandalous  to 
those  who  knew  the  persons  aimed  at,  and  Bacon  wanted 
publicity  as  Httle  as  possible. 

Now  for  the  evidence  that  both  these  satirists  knew 
Bacon's  secret. 

Hall  in  the  second  book  of  his  Satires,  which  he  called 
(after  Plautus)  Virgidemice,  i.e.  a  bundle  of  rods  or 
harvest  of  blows,  brings  on  the  scene  a  character  for 
castigation  whom  he  names  Labeo,  and  attacks  him 
thus  : 

"  For  shame  write  better,  Labeo,  or  write  none, 
Or  better  write,  or  Labeo  write  alone  ; " 

— Bk.  IL,  Sat.  i.,  i. 

and  finishes  the  satire  by  a  refrain  : 

"  For  shame  write  cleanly,  Labeo,  or  write  none." 
There  is  not  much  here  to  discover  who  Labeo  is 


i6      MARSTON   AND   HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

intended  for,  and,  as  I  have  said,  some  have  thought 
Marston  suited  the  satire,  and  some  Chapman,  but  all 
were  doubtful.  The  inference  from  the  lines  quoted 
amounted  to  no  more  than  this,  (i)  Labeo  did  not  write 
alone,  but  in  conjunction  with  or  under  cover  of  another 
author;  (2)  he  was  not  a  pure  or  moral  writer,  but  of 
the  impure  and  salacious  school.  Of  course  these  infer- 
ences would  suit  many  contemporaries,  and  Labeo  still 
remains  so  far  incognito,  and  unidentified. 

Early  next  year,  1598,  three  other  books  (iv.-vi.)  of 
the  VirgidemicB  were  issued  by  Hall,  just  before  Marston 
had  published  his  Satires,  and  in  Book  iv.,  Sat.  i.,  line  37, 
we  find  : 

"  Labeo  is  whip't,  and  laughs  me  in  the  face  ; 

Why  ?  for  I  smite  and  hide  the  galled  place. 

Gird  but  the  Cynicks  Helmet  on  his  head. 

Cares  he  for  Talus  or  his  flayle  of  lead  ? 

Long  as  the  crafty  Cuttle  lieth  sure 

In  the  black  Cloude  of  his  thick  vomiture  ; 

Who  list  complain  of  wronged  faith  or  fame 

When  he  may  shift  it  to  another's  name  ? " 

Dr.  Grosart  quotes  this  in  his  edition  of  Hall's  Poems, 
and  calls  it  "  Sphinxian,"  but  he  does  not  attempt  the 
part  of  (Edipus,  nor  do  I  know  any  one  that  has.  What 
can  be  inferred  from  the  lines  seems  to  be  that  Labeo 
was  a  man  of  mystery  who  had  hidden  himself  from 
curious  or  pursuing  eyes  by  the  tactics  of  a  cuttlefish, 
that  is,  by  getting  behind  his  own  dark  unwholesome 
productions,  and  by  shifting  them  to  another's  name. 
Also  that  Hall  had  hidden  or  not  revealed  fully  the 
galling  secret  of  Labeo,  and  that  therefore  Labeo  could 
laugh  the  matter  off. 

These  inferences  did  not  lead  to  much,  for  there  were 
many  anonymous  and  mysterious  writers  of  unwhole- 
some literature  in  that  age.  There  are  one  or  two  other 
references  to  Labeo,  but  they  are  even  less  distinct  than 
those  quoted. 

But  these  are  by  no  means  all  the  inferences  that 
can  be  drawn  from  this  Sphinxian  passage,  and  I  shall 
venture  next,   though   with  somewhat   of  stage-fright, 


THE   CYNIC'S   HELMET  17 

to  assume  myself  the  Ydle  of  CEdipus  before  an  audience 
which  I  know  is,  up  to  the  present,  preponderatingly 
Shakespearian  and  orthodox.  My  solution  will,  I  hope, 
forge  another  link  in  the  chain  that  shall  bind  Labeo 
to  Bacon. 

It  turns  on  the  word  "  Helmet." 

"  Gird  but  the  Cynicks  Helmet  on  his  head, 
Cares  he  for  Talus  or  his  flayle  of  lead  ?  " 

The  Cynic,  whether  Diogenes  in  particular  or  his 
imitators  as  a  class,  used  no  Helmet  as  far  as  we  know ; 
what  then  can  be  the  allusion  ?  What  was  this  Helmet 
that  made  Labeo  so  careless  about  the  blows  of  that 
terrible  smasher  Talus  ?  I  suggest  that  it  was  "  The 
Honourable  Order  of  the  Knights  of  the  Helmet,"  of 
which  we  hear  so  much  in  Francis  Bacon's  Gesta  Gray- 
orum,  that  Hall  hinted  at.  It  is  now  admitted  by  Spedding 
and  the  best  authorities  that  Bacon  is  responsible  for 
this  Device  performed  at  his  own  Gray's  Inn  during  the 
year  1594,  and  that  he  was  the  undoubted  sole  author 
of  the  Counsellors'  speeches  therein  given.  The  Second 
Counsellor  makes  a  fine  oration,  "  advising  the  study  of 
Philosophy,"  and  if  we  want  an  accurate  description 
of  the  innermost  views  and  hopes  of  Francis  Bacon, 
when  in  his  megalomanic  mood,  we  shall  find  them  there. 
He  ends  his  speech  as  follows  : 

"Thus,  when  your  Excellency  shall  have  added  depth  of 
knowledge  to  the  fineness  of  [your]  spirits  and  greatness  of  your 
power,  then  indeed  shall  you  be  a  Trismegistus ;  and  then  when 
all  other  miracles  and  wonders  shall  cease  by  reason  that  you 
shall  have  discovered  their  natural  causes,  yourself  shall  be  left 
the  only  miracle  and  wonder  of  the  world." 

If  a  man  has  such  a  Helmet  on  what  need  he  fear  ? 
and  Bacon,  I  believe,  when  cogitating  on  his  schemes 
of  power  over  Nature,  often  thought  that  he  had  that 
within  him  which  might  make  him  the  wonder  of  the 
world,  a  second  Trismegistus.  When  this  Order  of  the 
Helmet  was  instituted,  the  name  was  taken,  we  are  told, 
"  in  regard  that  as  the  Helmet  defendeth  the  chief  est 

B 


i8  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

part  of  the  body,  the  head,  so  did  he  (the  member)  defend 
the  head  of  the  state."  Each  member  kissed  the  Helmet 
when  he  took  his  vow,  before  girding  it  on.  The  articles 
of  the  Order  are  given  at  length  in  the  Gesta  Grayorum, 
and  are  worth  reading  in  this  connection,  and  indeed 
if  any  Knight  of  the  Helmet  kept  them  all,  or  even  the 
greater  part  of  them,  he  might  well  care  nothing  for 
Talus  and  his  flail. 

This  allusion  may  seem  very  far-fetched  and  im- 
probable to  my  adverse  critics  now,  but  it  should  be 
remembered  that  it  was  not  far-fetched  then,  for  it  was 
only  about  four  years  or  less  since  the  Gesta  had  been 
performed,  and  the  learned  humours  of  the  Knights 
of  the  Helmet  would  still  be  in  the  memory  and  on  the 
tongues  of  London  literary  men.* 

I  have  another  strong  passage  (from  Hall)  which  is 
best  noticed  here.  We  have  already  seen  several  reasons 
for  coupling  the  Cynic  of  the  Satires  with  Bacon  ;  the 
following  lines  give  further  corroboration  : 

"  Nay,  call  the  Cynick  but  a  wittie  foole, 
Hence  to  abjure  his  handsome  drinking  bol 
Because  the  thirstie  swain  with  hollow  hand 
Conveyed  the  stream  to  weet  his  drie  weasand. 
Write  they  that  can,  tho'  those  that  cannot  doe. 
But  who  knowes  that,  but  they  that  do  not  know." 

— Bk.  II.,  Sat.  i.,  3. 

This  too  is  Sphinxian,  but  I  think  that  the  original 
Latin  distich  prefixed  to  Venus  and  Adonis  by  the  author, 
will  enable  us  to  play  the  part  of  (Edipus  : 

"  Vilia  miretur  vulgus,  mihi  flavus  Apollo 

Pocula  Castalia  plena  ministret  aqua." 

Here  we  have  the  "  handsome  drinking  bowl  "  {pocula 
plena)  which  the  Cynick  author  abjured  (Bacon),  while 
the  "  thirstie  swain "  (Shakespeare)  "  conveyed  the 
stream "  (of  the  Castalian  fount)  "  with  hollow  hand 
to  weet  his  drie  weasand." 

The  last  two  lines  are  written  in  riddling  vein,  but 

*  For  the  best  account  see  Spedding's  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  325-343. 


BROAD   HINTS  19 

they  seem  to  mean :  "  They  who  can  write,  should 
write,  although  some  who  cannot  write  are  esteemed 
as  authors.  But  who  knows  about  these  last  pseudo- 
authors  and  their  secret  ?  Why,  no  one  but  a  few  privi- 
leged ones,  and  they  all  profess  ignorance  of  the  secret ; 
if  asked,  they  do  not  know."  If  I  prove  correct  in  my 
suggestion,  we  have  here  a  pretty  clear  reference  to  the 
mystery  of  William  Shakespeare,  and  the  full  draughts 
of  Castalian  water  in  the  Latin  distich. 

Next  then  we  come  to  Marston's  satires,  beginning 
with  his  Pigmalion's  Image,  which  he  strangely  spells 
^^  piggish  (Baconian  ?)  fashion,  though  an  excellent 
classical  scholar  who  ought  to  know  the  proper  spelling. 
Here  we  have  a  poem  founded  on  the  model  and  lines 
of  Venus  and  Adonis.  It  is  a  love-poem  and  not  a  satire, 
and  we  have  naturally  nothing  helping  us  to  find  out 
Labeo  here,  but  as  an  appendix  to  it  the  author  writes 
some  lines  in  "  praise  of  his  precedent  Poem." 
Here  we  find  Labeo  again  : 

"  And  in  the  end  (the  end  of  love,  I  wot), 
Pigmalion  hath  a  jolly  boy  begot. 
So  Labeo  did  complain  his  love  was  stone. 
Obdurate,  flinty,  so  relentless  none  ; 
Yet  Lynceus  knows  that  in  the  end  of  this 
He  wrought  as  strange  a  metamorphosis." 

Now  this  is  helpful  to  us,  for  it  shows  us,  or  rather 
Lynceus  shows  us,  what  poem  is  referred  to  and  who 
Labeo  stands  for.  For  it  was  Venus  and  Adonis  that  had 
the  strange  metamorphosis  at  the  end,  that  of  Adonis 
into  a  flower,  quite  as  strange  as  the  metamorphosis 
of  Pigmalion's  Image,  and  it  was  the  author  of  Venus 
and  Adonis  who  wrote  or  complained  : 

"  Art  thou  obdurate,  flinty  hard  as  steel- 
Nay,  more  than  flint,  for  stone  at  rain  relenteth?" 

—  Venus  and  Adonis,  11.  199-200. 

And  this  is  Labeo's  complaint  almost  word  for  word; 
so  we  arrive  at  the  pretty  certain  conclusion,  thanks  to 
far-seeing  Lynceus,  that  Labeo  is  intended  for  the  author 


20  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

of  Venus  and  Adonis,  of  which  Marston  had  evidently 
a  favourable  opinion  or  he  would  not  have  used  that 
sincerest  of  all  flatteries — imitation. 

We  have  thus  made  a  good  step  forward — Labeo  is 
the  writer  of  Venus  and  Adonis ;  and  as  there  is  every 
reason  to  think  that  Marston  used  the  name  Labeo 
because  Hall  had  used  it,  we  are  therefore  able  to  infer 
that  Hall  and  Marston  both  mean  the  same  man.  We 
therefore  advance  another  step  and  infer  that  the  author 
of  Venus  and  Adonis  did  not  write  alone,  that  he  shifted 
his  work  to  "  another's  name,"  and  acted  like  a  cuttle- 
fish by  interposing  a  dark  cloud  between  himself  and 
his  pursuers. 

Our  next  step  is  a  surer  one  still,  it  is  nothing  less 
than  showing,  by  a  clear,  direct,  and  unmistakable  piece 
of  evidence,  that  Labeo,  the  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis, 
is  no  less  a  personage  than  Bacon. 

This  strong  proof  is  derived  from  Marston's  Satires, 
published  with  his  Pigmalion's  Image  in  1598,  several 
months  after  Hall's  first  three  books  of  Virgidemica 
had  appeared.  Marston's  Satire  iv.  is  entitled  Reactio, 
and  is  full  of  railing  and  censure  on  Hall's  "  toothless  " 
snarls,  and  ridicules  his  prefatory  Defiance  to  Envy  through 
many  lines  and  quotations.  Marston  in  this  Reactio 
goes  through  pretty  well  all  the  literary  celebrities  that 
Hall  had  aimed  at,  and  defends  them  : 

"  O  daring  hardiment  1 
At  Bartas'  sweet  Semains  rail  impudent ; 
At  Hopkins,  Sternhold,  and  the  Scottish  King." 

Sat.  iv.,  39-41. 

This  was  his  "  reaction "  against  Hall's  satirical 
remarks  on  sacred  poets,  and  sacred  sonnets,  against 
which,  as  Marston  says,  [He]  "  like  a  fierce  enraged  boar 
doth  foam."  He  defends  several  other  authors  and 
books  against  the  envious  and  spiteful  satire  of  Hall, 
as  he  terms  it.  He  defends  the  Magistrates'  Mirror, 
which  Hall  had  ridiculed  in  his  Book  I.,  Sat.  5,  but  he 
seems  to  take  no  notice  of  Hall's  attack  on  Labeo,  al- 
though that  attack  was  a  marked  and  recurrent  one. 


BACON'S   MOTTO  21 

Labeo  seems  to  be  omitted  from  the  list  in  the  Reactio 
altogether. 

But  it  is  not  so  really  ;  Laheo  is  there,  but  concealed 
in  an  ingenious  way  by  Mars  ton,  and  passed  over  in  a 
line  that  few  would  notice  or  comprehend.  But  when  it 
is  noticed  it  becomes  one  of  the  most  direct  proofs  we 
have  on  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  question,  and  what  is 
more,  a  genuine  and  undoubted  contemporary  proof. 
The  missing  Labeo,  the  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis, 
appears  under  a  Latin  veil  in  the  following  interrogatory 
line  addressed  to  Hall : 

"What,  not  mediocria firma  from  thy  spite?" 

—Sat.  iv.,  'JT. 

that  is  to  say,  "  What,  did  not  even  mediocria  jirma 
escape  thy  spite  ?  "  That  Latin  veil  is  thin  and 
transparent  enough  in  all  conscience.  It's  Bacon's 
OWN  Motto,  and  I  am  gazing  at  it  now,  finely  en- 
graved over  that  well-known  portrait  of  Franciscus 
Baconus  Bare  de  Verulam,  which  faces  the  frontis- 
piece of  my  early  edition  of  his  Sylva  Sylvarum* 
"  Surely  you  have  blundered  like  the  rest  of  the 
cranks,"  I  seem  to  hear  the  Shakespearians  say; 
"  surely  it  was  a  motto  common  to  many  families  and 
proves  nothing."  The  thought  made  me  refer  to  our 
Smart  Society's  Bible,  edited  by  Burke,  and  there  I 
fomid  that  no  one  but  the  Earls  of  Verulam  or  the 
Bacon  family  has  used  that  motto.  I  am  reassured,! 
and  I  come  to  the  strange  conclusion  that  after  three 
hundred  years  of  mistaken  identity  the  true  author  of 

*  This  motto  apparently  came  from  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  for  at  the  trial  of 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh  in  1603,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  (Popham)  said  :  "It  was 
the  posy  of  the  wisest  and  greatest  counsellor  of  his  time  in  England."  In 
medio  spatio  mediocria  Jirma  locantur.  So  it  seems  that  part  of  the  posy 
formed  a  motto  for  arms. 

t  In  the  matter  of  general  acceptance  by  its  readers,  Burke's  Bible  may 
be  said  to  be  superior  to  its  time-honoured  namesake  which  begins  with  the 
Pentateuch.  For  Burke  is  opposed  by  far  fewer  heretics  and  free-thinkers, 
and  has  never  yet  been  printed  in  a  Polychrome  edition,  of  varying  authority. 
Hence  my  reassurance. 


22   MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

Venus  and  Adonis  is  discovered  under  the   very  thin 
device  of  his  own  heraldic  motto. 

Marston  has  been  edited  and  reprinted  and  annotated 
again  and  again,  but  this  odd  Hne  has  never  received, 
as  far  as  I  know,  a  single  word  of  notice.  What  shall 
we  say  to  all  this  ?  I  can  think  of  nothing  more  appro- 
priate than  the  expression  Professor  Dowden  used  when 
he  referred  to  one  of  Judge  Webb's  Baconian  errors — 
"  Did  you  ever  ?  " 

But  I  have  another  unnoticed  piece  of  evidence  from 
Marston's  Scourge  of  Villainy.  Unfortunately  it  is  rather 
of  the  nature  of  "  crank  "  or  "  cipher  "  evidence,  and 
therefore  those  who  believe  that  Bacon  never  used  any 
alphabetical  devices  in  any  part  of  his  works,  had  better 
skip  this  evidence. 

For  the  sake  of  those  who  have  not  pre-judged  the 
case  of  Bacon's  literary  concealments,  I  will  produce  it. 

It  is  a  pleasant  episode  in  the  midst  of  Marston's 
biting  and  libellous  satires.  He  suddenly  breaks  off 
while  apparently  speaking  against  the  affected  and 
senseless  character  of  much  of  the  contemporary  drama 
and  poetry,  and  addresses  an  unnamed  litterateur  of 
those  days  in  the  following  strain : 

"  Far  fly  thy  fame, 
Most,  most  of  me  beloved  !  whose  silent  name 
One  letter  bounds.     Thy  true  judicial  style 
I  ever  honour  ;  and,  if  my  love  beguile 
Not  much  my  hopes,  then  thy  unvalued  worth 
Shall  mount  fair  place,  when  apes  are  turned  forth." 

— Scourge  of  Villa nie^  Sat.  ix. 

Who  can  this  be  ?  Praise  from  Marston,  the  severe 
satirist,  is  most  unusual.  Who  was  this  genius  that  was 
to  rise  by  his  own  "  unvalued  worth  when  apes  (ix. 
actors  or  imitators)  are  turned  forth  "  ?  I  thought  at 
once  of  Marston's  known  appreciation  of  Shakespeare  ; 
he  evidently  knew  the  works  that  went  by  his  name 
well,  and  imitation  of  Hamlet  and  other  Shakespeare 
plays,  or  rather  reminiscences  of  them,  can  be  frequently 
traced  in  Marston's  dramas.     It  has  also  been  stated 


THE   "SILENT   NAME"  23 

before  that  his  Pigmalion  was  both  in  metre  and  style 
an  imitation  of  the  Venus  and  Adonis.  Therefore  it 
did  not  seem  unlikely  that  in  this  rising  genius  "  most, 
most  of  me  beloved,"  Marston  might  refer  to  Shakespeare. 
Did  the  passage  afford  any  clue  ?  Yes,  one  of  a  very 
Sphinx-like  character.  His  name  is  alluded  to,  "  one 
letter  bounds  "  it,  and  it  is  a  "  silent  name,"  i.e.  I  suppose, 
an  "  unuttered  name."  Is  there  a  name  of  one  letter  ? 
Well,  there  are  several  such — Dee,  Jay,  Kaye,  &c.,  but 
not  one  suitable  to  the  case.  At  last  it  struck  me  that 
F  was  the  one  enclosing  letter,  and  that  Marston  knew 
much  more  than  I  thought.  For  F  is  the  letter  that 
"  bounds  "  the  other  two  where  Bacon  "  shows  his  head  " 

in  the  beginning  of  Lucrece,  pg,  and  it  bounds  his 
name  at  the  end  also,  where  the  F  of  Finis  bounds  the 
BA  CON  of  the  two  last  lines.  And  that  name  was  a 
"  silent  name,"  not  uttered  either  in  the  vestibule  or 
any  other  part  of  Lucrece. 

Indeed,  as  far  as  that  vestibule  was  concerned,  an 
"  ape  "  or  "  poet-ape  "  was  in  possession,  and  Marston 
plainly  says  that  he  did  not  expect  the  man  he  addresses, 
and  whose  "  judicial  style "  he  did  "  ever  honour," 
would  mount  to  his  right  position  till  the  "  apes  are 
turned  forth."  All  this,  I  say,  looks  as  if  Marston  knew 
the  Baconian  secret  thoroughly,  and  had  either  recog- 
nised Bacon's  head  and  tail  or  had  been  told  of  it.  Of 
course,  I  know  well  enough  that  all  I  have  been  bringing 
forward  in  this  last  page  or  two  may  be  nothing  but 
fantastical  rubbish,  and  I  shall  certainly  not  call  any  one 
irrational  who  won't  believe  it.  But  though  I  admit 
that  this  last  "  one  letter "  proof  stands  on  a  much 
weaker  foundation  than  does  the  hidden  allusion  to 
Bacon's  motto,  I  do  not  think  it  quite  unworthy  of  being 
offered  to  the  critics.  But  both  these  proofs  may  be 
utterly  demolished  without  interfering  at  all  with  the 
general  argument  and  force  of  my  present  work. 

Judge  Webb  introduced  one  argument  about  the 
"  noted  weed,"  which  was  demolished  as  soon  as  seen 
by  every  critic.     It  was  this  that  brought  out  Professor 


24  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

Dowden's  "  Did  you  ever  ?  "  and  it  has  gone  a  long  way 
towards  depreciating  his  excellent  summary.  But  one 
mistake  no  more  damns  a  book  than  one  swallow  makes 
a  summer.  Qui  s'excuse  s^accuse,  and  it  is  true  that 
I  am  rather  doubtful  about  my  last  "  one  letter  "  dis- 
covery. But  if  not  Bacon,  who  on  earth  can  Mars  ton 
mean  ?  Was  there  another  fellow  of  the  same  name 
and  the  same  motto  ?  Oh  yes,  there  was  his  brother 
Anthony.  Well,  I  will  accept  any  one  on  sufficient 
evidence,  and  will  be  pleased  to  hear  of  it.  As  for  the 
Mars  ton  evidence,  there  is  this  that  I  can  say  with 
certainty — he  alludes  more  than  once  to  a  rising  literary 
genius  whom  he  loves,  so  he  says,  as  his  own  self.  He 
expresses  a  personal  literary  devotion  in  stronger  terms 
than  were  usual  even  in  those  days  of  adulation. 

Take  this  further  example  from  his  play  of  What 
You  Will,  Act.  II.,  Sc.  I.  : 

"  Or  the  deere  spirit  acute  Canaidos 
(That  Aretine,  that  most  of  me  beloved 
Who  in  the  rich  esteeme  I  prize  his  soul 
I  terme  myself)." 

Taking  this  and  comparing  it  with  the  identical  expres- 
sions in  the  "  one  letter  "  passage  from  the  Scourge  of 
Villainy  above,  there  can  be  little  hesitation  in  asserting 
that  they  refer  to  the  same  man.  That  man  is  Bacon 
surely.  The  appellation  of  "  Aretine  "  is  quite  proper 
to  the  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  for  he  appears  through- 
out the  poem  to  be  trying  "  his  hand  with  Aretine  on  a 
licentious  canvas,"  as  Boswell  remarked  of  Shakespeare 
long  ago. 

The  fact  is  both  Marston  and  Hall  were  "  moral " 
satirists,  and  were  genuine  doubtless  in  their  detestation 
of  the  vices  of  the  age.  Indeed,  Hall  became  an  excel- 
lent bishop,  and  Marston,  as  it  seems,  spent  the  latter 
years  of  his  life  in  a  vicarage  and  with  the  cure  of  souls. 
I  believe  they  both,  especially  Marston,  admired  and 
esteemed  the  lofty  genius  and  soul  of  the  "  concealed  " 
poet,  but  they  thought  he  had  prostituted  it  by  the 
lascivious   and   unclean   nature   of  his   beautiful   verse. 


I 


BACON'S   EARLY   "TOYS"  25 

"  For  shame  write  cleanly,  Labeo,  or  write  none,"  says 
Hall,  and  Marston,  if  I  am  correct  in  my  surmise,  calls 
him  an  "  Aretine  "  and  dubs  him  Canaidos,  though  he 
loves  him.  It  is  within  my  knowledge  that  Nash  was 
thought  to  be  the  "  Aretine  "  of  that  day  by  his  fellows, 
and  that  he  himself  almost  assumed  that  title,  and  there- 
fore it  may  be  that  Marston  was  referring  to  him.  But 
there  is  no  evidence  that  Marston  was  a  student  of  Nash 
and  an  imitator  of  him,  as  we  know  was  the  case  with 
Marston  in  regard  to  the  Shakespeare  poems  and  plays.* 
Moreover,  I  think  Nash  appears  in  the  Scourge  of  Villainy 
branded  with  the  vilest  opprobrium,  and  so  I  hold  to 
Bacon  as  being  most  likely  the  man  Marston  means. 

Many  of  that  age  who  admired  Bacon's  other  sterling 
qualities,  regretted  his  early  licence  of  love,  and  his 
"  phantasticall "  devotion  to  such  "  toys "  as  plays 
and  sonnets.  Such  were  Sir  Thomas  Bodley,  the  Cecils, 
father  and  son,  and  the  Queen  herself.  I  often  think 
that  it  was  from  causes  of  this  kind  mainly,  that  Bacon's 
promotion  in  his  uncongenial  career  was  so  long  delayed. 

And  then  there  was  the  Scandal  too.  What  does 
Marston  mean  by  Canaidos  ?  It  is  not  without  some 
hidden  meaning,  for  it  is  an  invented  name,  and  not 
borrowed  out  of  the  common  stock  of  Juvenal,  Persius, 
or  Horace,  whence  the  University  wits  drew  their  nick- 
names for  the  most  part.  What  if  it  implies  the  similarly 
sounding  word  "  Kunaidos,"  which  would  lead  us  to 
"  Cynaedus,"  and  some  vile  form  of  "  Cynicism  "  ?  I 
hope  not.  But  about  this  time  or  a  bit  later,  according 
to  my  theorj^  of  the  Sonnets,  Bacon  was  undoubtedly 
"  vile  esteemed,"  and  there  were  many  mendacia  famca 
rolled  like  a  sweet  morsel  under  the  tongues  of  the  envious 
vulgar.     Those  connected  with  the  garrulous  theatrical 

*  "  A  horse  !  a  horse  !  my  kingdom  for  a  horse  ! 
Looke  thee,  I  speak  play  scraps," 

— Marston's  What  You  Will,  Act  II.,  Sc.  i. 
Marston  has  several  other  instances,  especially  from  Hamlet,  which  latter 
give  a  plausibility  to  an  earlier  Hamlet  than  we  now  possess.     He  also  has  a 
quotation  from  Richard  III,,  Act  I.,  i.  32  :  "  Plots  ha'  you  laid?  inductions 
dangerous." 


26  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

world,  which  always  has  its  touch  of  a  cynicism  of  some 
kind,  would  be  sure  to  hear  of  it.  Neither  Ben  Jonson 
in  his  early  days,  or  when  supreme  at  the  "  Mermaid  " 
later  on,  nor  yet  his  literary  "  sons  "  who  viewed  him 
as  a  dictator,  would  be  so  delicate  as  to  taboo  this  un- 
pleasant subject  over  their  sack  and  pickled  herring, 
and  I  am  surprised  we  have  not  heard  more  about  this 
scandal  in  contemporary  satires.  But  there  was  the 
Star  Chamber  and  the  censors,  and  Bacon's  powerful 
friends,  to  suppress  and  eradicate  such  references.  Pig- 
malion,  the  Satires,  and  the  Scourge  of  Villainy  were 
all  burnt,  and  others  were  "  stayed,"  as  we  know.  This 
partly  accounts  for  the  reticence. 

But  Marston  elsewhere  speaks  more  pointedly  of 
the  two  great  Shakespeare  Poems ;  there  can  be  no  doubt 
about  the  passage  I  shall  next  quote.  A  sense  of  personal 
pique  at  unfair  treatment  is  plainly  exhibited  here.  Is 
he  (Marston)  to  be  muzzled  while  the  freedom  of  the 
press  is  readily  granted  to  lewd  poems  fathered  and 
signed  by  a  William  Shakespeare,  a  mere  trencher-slave  ? 
Shall  poems  which  "  magnificate  "  the  lust  of  a  goddess 
of  Jove's  Olympian  court,  or  tell  the  suggestive  story 
of  "  Lucrece  rape,"  be  endorsed  by  archiepiscopal  sign- 
manual,  while  his  own,  the  production  of  a  scholar  and 
a  gentleman,  are  muzzled  and  threatened  ?  That  was 
the  sore  point,  as  he  clearly  states  : 

"  Nay,  shall  a  trencher-slave  extenuate 
Some  Lucrece  rape  and  straight  magnificate 
Lewd  Jovian  lust,  whilst  my  satiric  vein 
Shall  muzzled  be,  not  daring  out  to  strain 
His  tearing  paw?" 

— Scourge  of  Villanie,  iii.  adjinem. 

If  it  be  thought  strange  or  contradictory  that  a  poet 
should  be  first  praised  and  called  "  most  beloved  "  "  deere 
spirit,"  with  other  friendly  epithets,  and  then  vilified 
almost  in  the  same  breath,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  the  satirists  of  that  age  made  it  their  object  to  lash 
current  vices  irrespective  of  personal  friendship  or  even 
ties  of  blood-     The  rather  free  frontispiece  of  the  Scourge 


A   CONDEMNATION  27 

of  Folly  (1611)  shows  this.  Here  we  have  Folly  repre- 
sented as  hoisted  on  Time's  back,  untnissed  and  ready 
for  castigation  by  a  wit  who  is  flourishing  his  lash,  and 
saying,  "  Nay,  up  with  him,  if  he  were  my  brother." 
The  wit  was  John  Davies  of  Hereford,  author  of  many 
other  poems  besides  the  rare  Scourge  of  Folly,  and  with 
a  large  circle  of  acquaintance  among  the  upper  and 
middle  classes,  whom  he  did  not  spare. 

It  must  be  admitted,  that  if  we  examine  closely  the 
possible  allusions  to  the  Shakespearian  drama  in  Hall 
and  Marston's  satires,  we  shall  find  signs  of  condemnation 
rather  than  approval.  But  their  condemnation  is  mainly 
in  one  direction  only,  in  fact  it  amounts  to  the  same 
dispraise  which  Jonson  expressed  when  he  said  to  Drum- 
mond  that  Shakespeare  wanted  art.  Ben  meant,  I 
think,  classical  art  and  the  Aristotelian  Unities,  and  it 
was  the  same  with  the  twin  University  scholars.  Hall 
and  Marston. 

Hall  says  (of  the  Shakespeare  plays,  as  it  seems) : 

"  A  goodly  hoch-poch  ;  when  vile  Russettings 
Are  matched  with  Monarchs  and  with  mighty  kings. 
A  goodly  grace  to  sober  Tragick  Muse 
When  each  base  clowne  his  clumsie  fist  doth  bruise, 
And  show  his  teeth  in  double  rotten  row 
For  laughter  at  his  self-resembled  showe." 

—  Virgidem.,  Lib.  I.,  Sat.  i.  39. 

Hall,  Marston,  and  Jonson,  all  seem  to  be  of  the  same 
opinion,  that  Shakespeare  over-edited  very  considerably 
the  plays  he  obtained  by  brokerage — "  his  huge  long 
scraped  stock,"  as  Marston  calls  them.  They  thought 
he  added  far  too  many  *'  shreds  "  of  his  own  of  a  rough, 
rustic,  railing,  jesting,  clownish  character — for  there 
must  be  rude  clownage  for  the  gallery  ;  it  was  a  tradition 
of  the  old  stage  right  away  from  the  time  of  the  miracle- 
plays,  and  Shakespeare  as  an  actor-manager,  with  an 
eye  to  the  main  chance  rather  than  to  strict  chaste  classic 
art,  could  not  or  would  not  dispense  with  it. 

Even  when  Ben's  severely  classic  Sejanus  was  brought 
out  by  Shakespeare's  company  at  the  Globe  Theatre 


28  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

in  1603,  we  find  from  Ben  Jonson's  preface  to  the  play, 
that  it  was  "  not  the  same  with  that  which  was  acted 
on  the  pubhc  stage,"  the  fact  seeming  to  be  that  Shake- 
speare or  some  of  the  company,  but  Shakespeare  for 
choice,  had  inserted  gags,  or  additions,  or  alterations 
differing  from  Ben's  MS.  He  says  "  a  second  pen  had 
good  share  in  it,"  and  adds,  perhaps  satirically,  that 
he  was  unwilling  "  to  defraud  so  happy  a  genius  of  his 
right  "  by  pubhshing  his  additional  ornaments,  and  that 
he  has  replaced  his  own  original  composition  and  words 
in  the  published  play. 

Surely  this  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  the  Shakespearian 
authorship  of  the  plays.  Shall  we  be  thought  absurd 
if  we  suppose  that  Shakespeare  of  Stratford  was  a  good 
practical  playwright,  with  a  rough  and  ready  trenchant 
humour,  acceptable  on  traditional  lines  with  the  greater 
part  of  the  less  cultured  among  the  audience,  but  an 
eyesore  to  the  better-instructed  University  critics,  who 
looked  for  classic  art ;  and  this  Shakespeare  wanted. 
But  not  only  in  the  low-comedy  scenes  could  Shakespeare 
insert  his  "  shreds  "  ;  he  was  a  veritable  factotum,  and 
could  bombast  out  a  bragging  blank  verse — that  is,  he 
could  fill  up  the  lines  he  wrote,  as  well,  in  his  own  opinion, 
as  the  best  of  his  fellow- writers.  This  was  just  the  kind 
of  man  to  over-edit  a  MS.  obtained  by  brokerage,  and 
to  be  unable  to  restrain  himself  from  adding  to  and 
patching  up  even  such  high-class  work  as  Ben  Jonson's 
Sejanus,  and  Francis  Bacon's  immortal  creations.  We 
should  read  in  connection  with  this  the  whole  passage 
concerning  Luscus — "  Luscus,  what's  play'd  to-day  ?  " 
— in  the  Scourge  of  Villainy.  As  I  have  said  elsewhere, 
I  hold  Luscus,  both  here  and  in  Jonson's  Poetaster,  to 
be  Shakespeare  the  actor. 

Marston  says,  referring  to  Luscus  : 

"  Now  I  have  him  that  ne'er  of  ought  did  speak 
But  when  of  plays  and  players  he  did  treat — 
Hath  made  a  common-place  book  out  of  plays, 
And  speaks  in  print :  at  least  what  e'er  he  says 
Is  warranted  by  curtain  plaudities. 
If  e'er  you  hear  him  courting  Lesbia's  eyes, 


SHAKESPEARE'S   TRUE   POSITION  29 

Say  (courteous  sir)  speaks  he  not  movingly, 
From  out  some  new  pathetic  tragedy  ? 
He  writes,  he  rails,  he  jests,  he  courts  (what  not  ?) 
And  all  from  out  his  huge  long-scraped  stock 
Of  well-penn'd  plays." 

— Scourge  of  Villanie,  Sat.  xi.,  41. 

Here  there  seems  a  good  biographical  passage  con- 
nected with  the  real  original  Stratford  Shakespeare, 
and  as  they  are  so  uncommonly  rare,  I  make  no  excuse 
for  quoting  it.  It  is  such  passages  as  the  above,  which 
make  me  deprecate  and  detest  the  assertion  that  "  Bacon 
wrote  Shakespeare."  It  is  not  true,  and  it  is  not  likely 
to  be  true.  That  Bacon  wrote  the  Poems  and  Sonnets 
in  their  entirety  absolutely,  I  fully  believe,  but  the  Plays 
are  on  another  footing.  I  do  not  call  to  mind  any  part 
of  the  Poems  or  Sonnets  that  does  not  bear  the  well-defined 
stamp  of  a  born  aristocrat,  who  was  the  equal  social 
companion  of  court  gallants  and  maids  of  honour.  A 
very  large  proportion  of  the  contents  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays  equally  bear  this  well-defined  stamp  ;  such  early 
plays  as  Love's  Labour's  Lost  seeming  to  me  indubitably 
the  work  of  a  well-born  and  highly  educated  genius. 
But  there  is  a  not  inconsiderable  percentage  of  the  matter 
of  the  Shakespeare  Plays  which  seems  unworthy  (if  I 
may  be  pardoned  the  blasphemy)  of  that  philosophic, 
aristocratic,  and  megalomanic  genius,  by  whose  wondrous 
alchemy  words  that  were  dead,  blossomed  into  living 
pictures  ;  and  who,  according  to  my  contention,  was  the 
true  original  author  of  the  immortal  plays.  But  Shake- 
speare of  Stratford  edited  them,  gagged  for  them,  arranged 
the  stage  machinery  (though  the  true  author  was  no 
novice  at  that  business),  produced  them  before  the  public, 
and  very  Hkely  paid  something  for  them,  so  they  might 
well  be  called  and  esteemed  Shakespeare's  Plays.  And 
when  Ben  Jonson,  somewhat  like  Sir  Walter  Scott,  threw 
dust  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  reading  world  by  his  in- 
genious prevarications  in  1623,  that  appellation  remained 
stereotyped  in  the  minds  of  all  till  less  than  fifty 
years  ago. 

There  are  several  other  passages  in  Marston's  Satires 


30  MARSTON  AND  HALL  REVEAL  BACON 

where  Bacon  seems  pretty  clearly  alluded  to,  and  I  shall 
refer  to  them  in  their  proper  connection  later  on.  Marston 
spares  him  not,  though  he  admires  his  intellect ;  and 
if  we  are  surprised  at  the  unfeeling  censure  displayed 
now  and  then,  we  must  remember  that  the  office  of  a 
satirist  is  not  to  praise  the  virtues  but  to  lash  the  vices 
of  the  masked  contemporaries  whom  he  puts  into  his 
verse.  He  calls  Bacon,  as  I  am  inclined  to  think,  a 
"  Cynic "  in  several  different  passages.  In  one  he 
addresses  him,  "  Thou  Cynic  dog,"  and  as  a  "  currish 
mad  Athenian,"  by  this  last  word  meaning  a  University 
man  by  education.  Marston  insinuates  elsewhere  that 
his  wits  were  rather  "  flighty,"  as  we  say  : 

"  Why  in  thy  wits  half  capreal 
Let's  thou  a  superscribed  letter  fall  ? 
And  from  thyself  unto  thyself  dost  send, 
And  in  the  same  thyself  thyself  commend  ? " 

—Sat.  i.,  7,  &c. 

Now  this  letter-trick  was  almost  peculiar  to  Bacon. 
He  was  constantly  using  it,  as  we  see  by  what  Spedding 
unfolds.  "  Capreal,"  a  rather  uncommon  word,  seems 
here  to  mean  "  fantastical,"  which  was  a  term  of  obloquy 
often  applied  to  poets,  especially  if  they  were  high-born. 
Thus  Puttenham's  Arte  of  Poesie  tells  us  :  "  Whoso  is 
studious  in  the  Arte,  or  shewes  himself  excellent  in  it, 
they  call  him  in  disdayne  a  phantasticall "  (edition 
Arber,  p.  33).  The  word  is  doubtless  connected  with 
capriole^  the  high-leaping  or  curvetting  of  a  horse  or 
goat.  In  fact,  Marston  in  his  Antonio  and  Mellida 
(Act  v.,  i.  94)  exclaims  : 

"  Now,  cap'ring  wits 
Rise  to  your  highest  mount." 

But  Marston  most  of  all  seems  to  dislike  the  comic  low 
characters,  and  the  "  tricksy,  learned,  nicking  strain  " 
of  the  immortal  plays.     He  says  : 

"  My  soul  adores  judicial  scholarship  ; 
But  when  to  servile  imitatorship 
Some  spruce  Athenian  pen  is  prenticed, 
'Tis  worse  than  apish  ; " 

— Scourge  of  Villanie,  Sat.  ix. 


MORE  ALLUSIONS  31 

and  again  a  few  lines  further  on  : 

"  How  ill  methought  such  wanton  jigging  skips 
Beseemed  his  graver  speech." 

All  this  looks  very  like  Baconian  allusion,  for  in  the 
next  lines  comes  the  eulogy  "  Far  fly  thy  fame,"  &c., 
quoted  above,  and  the  only  eulogy  in  the  whole  of 
the  Satires — where  we  get  the  "silent  name  one  letter 

bounds,"  or  pg. 

Such  passages  as  are  quoted  in  this  chapter,  and 
other  new  passages  even  stronger  than  these  that  I  shall 
give  in  the  chapter  on  Jonson  and  Bacon,  should 
considerably  invalidate  the  force  of  that  great  orthodox 
argument :  "  All  Shakespeare's  contemporaries  acknow- 
ledged him  to  be  the  true  author  of  his  own  works,  and 
that  irrevocably  settles  the  question." 

I  now  approach,  as  promised,  the  unpleasant  subject 
of  the  Scandal  connected  with  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
and  with  Bacon. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   SCANDAL  :   EXTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

The  next  evidence  which  I  shall  bring  into  open  court 
in  the  following  pages,  is,  what  I  fear  some  people  will 
call  the  kind  of  evidence  that  should  only  be  heard 
in  camerd.  But  a  literary  question  can  hardly  be  dis- 
cussed under  such  restrictions,  and  even  were  it  pos- 
sible to  nominate  a  joint-committee  of  well-known 
Shakespearians  and  Baconians  to  discuss  privately 
"  the  Scandal  of  the  Sonnets,"  and  simply  report  the 
decision  arrived  at,  without  communicating  the  evi- 
dence that  led  to  it,  I  do  not  for  one  moment  suppose 
that  any  of  the  public,  literate  or  illiterate,  would  be 
satisfied  with  such  a  bare  result. 

So  if  we  are  to  settle  this  qucestio  vexata,  we  must 
take  the  savoury  with  the  unsavoury,  and  make  as  few 
wry  faces  over  it  as  possible.  I  think  it  will  be  more 
satisfactory,  both  to  myself  and  my  readers,  if  I  intro- 
duce this  unpleasant,  but  necessary,  subject  in  the  words 
of  an  orthodox  Shakespearian,  who  is  a  fine  scholar, 
and  I  suppose  knew  the  Sonnets,  backwards  and  for- 
wards, better  than  any  man  in  the  world.  I  refer  to  the 
late  Samuel  Butler,  who  in  1899,  being  then  so  little  a 
novice  in  difficult  problems  of  literature  that  he  had 
already  discovered  the  writer  of  the  Odyssey  to  be  a 
woman,  tried  his  experienced  hand  on  Shakespeare's 
Sonnets. 

He  began  with  a  good  will,  there  is  no  doubt  of  that, 
for  he  tells  us  that  before  taking  any  steps  to  tackle 
the  problem  on  its  merits,  he  committed  the  whole  body 
of  the  Sonnets  to  his  <  memory,  and  thus  became  inde- 
pendent of  his  book,  and  had  not  the  trouble  of  con- 
stantly turning  over  its  leaves.     Such  a  beginning,  if 


A   HIDDEN   MYSTERY  33 

it  did  not  end  in  success,  at  least  deserved  it.  But 
alas,  being  a  Shakespearian  pure  and  simple,  he  found 
the  problem,  as  they  all  find  it,  a  much  more  awkward 
one  than  at  first  it  seems.  In  his  case,  after  a  deal 
of  honest  hard  work,  he  succeeded,  so  his  friends  said, 
in  imparting  additional  obscurity  to  several  of  the  plainer 
and  more  obvious  Sonnets,  and  by  a  curious  arrange- 
ment of  earlier  dates  than  had  been  ever  tried  before, 
he  rendered  some  of  the  Sonnets  perfectly  unintelligible. 
But  he  was  one  of  the  very  few  who  have  ventured  to 
hint  at  the  tabooed  subject  of  the  "  Great  Scandal,"  and 
it  is  for  that  reason  that  I  quote  him  before  I  cross  the 
threshold  myself. 

In  his  book,  Shakespeare* s  Sonnets  (pp.  86,  %y),  he  says : 

"No  person  can  begin  to  read  the  Sonnets  without  feeling 
there  is  a  story  of  some  sort  staring  them  in  the  face.  They 
cannot  apprehend  it,  but  they  feel  that  behind  some  four  or  five 
Sonnets  there  is  a  riddle  which  more  or  less  taints  the  series, 
with  a  vague  feeling  as  though  the  answer  if  found  would  be 
unwholesome.  Their  date  is  the  very  essence  of  the  whole 
matter;  for  the  verdict  that  we  are  to  pass  upon  some  few  of 
them — and  these  colour  the  others — depends  in  great  measure 
on  the  age  of  the  writer.  ...  If  we  date  them  early,  we  suppose 
a  severe  wound  in  youth,  but  one  that  was  soon  healed  to  perfect 
wholesomeness.  If  we  date  them  at  any  age  later  than  extreme 
youth,  there  is  no  escape  from  supposing  what  is  really  a  malig- 
nant cancer. 

"  Those  who  date  the  Sonnets  as  the  Southamptonites  and  still 
worse  the  Herbertites  do,  cannot  escape  from  leaving  Shake- 
speare suffering,  as  I  have  said,  from  a  leprous  or  cancerous 
taint,  for  they  do  not  even  attempt  to  show  that  he  was  lured 
into  a  trap,  and  if  they  did  he  was  too  old  for  the  excuse  to  be 
admitted  as  much  palliation." 

Mr.  Butler  grants  that  the  story  is  a  squalid  one,  but 
thinks  Shakespeare's  first  few  years  in  London  were  passed 
in  squalid  surroundings,  and  he  ends  by  an  appeal : 

"Considering  his  extreme  youth,  his  poetic  temper,  con- 
sidering his  repentance,  and  the  perfect  sanity  of  all  his  later 
work,  considering  further  that  all  of  us  who  read  the  Sonnets  are 

C 


34     THE   SCANDAL:  EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

as  men  who  are  looking  over  another's  shoulder  and  reading  a  very 
private  letter  which  was  intended  for  the  recipient's  eyes  and 
for  no  one  else's,  considering  all  these  things,  1  believe  that  those 
whose  judgment  we  should  respect  will  refuse  to  take  Shake- 
speare's grave  indiscretion  more  to  heart  than  they  do  the  story 
of  Noah's  drunkenness." 

And  further  on  (p.  122)  he  says  : 

"  One  word  more.  Fresh  from  the  study  of  the  other  great 
work  in  which  the  love  that  passeth  the  love  of  women  is 
portrayed  as  nowhere  else  save  in  the  Sonnets,  I  cannot  but  be 
struck  with  the  fact  that  it  is  in  the  two  greatest  of  all  poets  that 
we  find  this  subject  treated  with  the  greatest  intensity  of  feeling. 
The  marvel,  however,  is  this,  that  whereas  the  love  of  Achilles 
for  Patroclus  depicted  by  the  Greek  poet  is  purely  English, 
absolutely  without  taint  or  alloy  of  any  kind,  the  love  of  the 
English  poet  for  Mr.  W.  H.  was,  though  only  for  a  short  time, 
more  Greek  than  English.     I  cannot  explain  this." 

No,  I  may  add,  nor  is  any  orthodox  Shakespearian 
ever  likely  to  explain  it.  William  Shakespeare  was 
most  distinctly  not  the  kind  of  man  for  a  scandal  of  this 
nature,  nor  is  there  the  slightest  trace  of  such  a  stain 
in  his  whole  life.  He  had  his  scandals  too,  but  they 
were  very  different  ones.  Take  his  early  Stratford  days 
— we  all  know  how  he  cropped  his  own  sweet  rose  before 
the  hour.  It  is  down  in  black  and  white  against  him 
in  the  contemporary  registers  of  the  diocese  of  Worcester 
— that  is  one  scandal.  Take  his  London  actor-manager 
days — we  know  pretty  well  how  he  showed  a  citizen's 
wife  that  William  the  Conqueror  was  before  Richard  III.  ; 
that  too  has  been  current  in  black  and  white  from  an 
early  period  and  seems  founded  on  good  oral  tradition. 
That  is  another  scandal,  but  not  the  kind  we  have  to 
do  with  here — nay,  it  almost  excludes  it,  for  Shakespeare's 
breaches  of  the  moral  law  were  distinctly  virile,  and, 
moreover,  he  was  the  father  of  twins  begotten  in  lawful 
wedlock  before  he  was  twenty-one — so  there  was  not 
much  sexual  inversion  about  him.  We  cannot  marry 
anv  facts,  or  even  fictions  of  his  hfe,  to  the  scandals  of 


WHICH   OF   THE   TWO?  35 

the  vSonnets.  But  how  about  Bacon  ?  What  do  the 
Baconians — the  heretics — tell  us  about  him  with  regard 
to  this  particular  matter  ?  Nothing,  apparently.  Either 
they  know  nothing,  or  else  they  are  in  a  conspiracy  of 
silence  ;  for  I  have  seen  nothing  in  print  on  the  subject 
as  yet.  But  as  I  have  only  recently  entered  on  the  field 
of  controversy,  I  may  not  have  sufficiently  examined 
their  arguments  or  evidence. 

But  we  may  surely  begin  by  saying  that  at  least 
a  'priori  we  have  in  Bacon  a  much  more  likely  man  for 
a  moral  scandal  than  in  the  country  lad  Shakespeare, 
who  was  brought  up  far  away  from  the  infectious  atmos- 
phere of  "  Italianated  ■ '  gallants,  and  who  mixed  with 
middle-class  people  of  a  much  more  unsophisticated 
character  than  were  the  libertines  of  a  royal  court, 
whether  a  French  or  English  one. 

Bacon  had  early  experience  of  court  life  abroad,  and 
was  thrown  into  the  company  of  aristocrats  who  had 
widely  travelled  and  knew  the  vices  of  the  Continent  at 
any  rate,  even  if  they  did  not  practise  themt  And  if  we 
put  aside  the  grosser  forms  of  vice  as  improbable,  and 
reduce  the  scandal  to  an  intense  Platonic  friendship  for 
a  beautiful  youth,  still  Bacon  is  much  the  more  likely 
man  for  this  too  than  Shakespeare.  For  since  the  Greek 
teachers  and  scholars  came  to  Italy  after  the  fall  of 
Constantinople,  there  had  been  a  gre^-t  revival,  almost 
a  re-birth,  of  Greek  literature  in  that  sunny  land,  and 
a  kind  of  Platonism  established  itself  in  literature  and 
in  the  higher  culture  of  men,  whereby  the  Greek  view 
of  an  intense  innocent  male  friendship  was  fostered  and 
became  indeed  fashionable  and  praiseworthy  among 
the  cultivated  upper  classes,  and  Englishmen  who 
travelled  in  Italy,  or  consorted  with  men  who  had  spent 
some  time  abroad,  would  be  likely  enough  to  catch  this 
fashion  or  folly  of  the  time,  and  would  either  seek  or 
imagine  some  "  master-mistress  "  for  their  passion. 

Bacon,  I  maintain,  was  a  much  more  likely  individual 
to  catch  this  infection  than  was  Shakespeare.  But 
however  that  may  be,  I  feel  it  is  only  right  that  I  should 


36     THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

produce  in  open  court  all  such  scandal-evidence  regarding 
Bacon  as  I  have  found  in  the  course  of  my  comparatively 
short  search. 

I  will  begin  by  calling  m}^  principal  witness,  who  is 
no  other  than  good  old  Aubrey,  whose  appearance  in 
the  witness-box  should  be  greeted  with  delight  and 
respect  by  all  lovers  of  biographical  research.  If  ever 
a  man  devoted  time  and  trouble  to  gathering  useful 
and  accurate  details  of  the  lives  of  famous  Englishmen 
of  his  own  age  and  of  the  near  preceding  ones,  it  was 
John  Aubrey.  He  has  recovered  and  preserved  for  us 
many  valuable  literary  assets  which  are  now  in  our 
possession  for  ever,  and  we  have  to  thank  him  for  many 
precious  records  of  Milton,  Waller,  and  scores  of  other 
famous  and  interesting  Englishmen,  which  would  have 
been  utterly  lost  but  for  his  conscientious  and  pains- 
taking notes,  which  he  put  down  in  those  MS.  volumes 
now  preserved  in  the  Bodleian.  He  is  a  most  valuable 
witness  in  this  case,  as  indeed  he  is  in  all  cases  of  con- 
temporary biography,  for  we  know  his  antecedents, 
and  we  know  how  he  used  to  obtain  his  evidence.  He 
was  a  man  of  good  position  in  society,  with  numerous 
friends  and  correspondents,  and  was  a  most  persistent 
questioner  and  seeker-out  of  those  who  had  personally 
known  any  of  the  worthies  whose  lives  and  peculiar 
characteristics  he  wished  to  record  in  his  great  MS.  col- 
lections. He  dined  out,  and  had  frequent  social  inter- 
course with  cultivated  men  of  the  higher  classes,  and  any 
scraps  of  their  conversation,  any  anecdotes  they  might 
personally  relate,  would  be  carefully  and  honestly  trans- 
ferred to  his  note-books  on  his  return  home.  This  was 
a  hobby  of  his  and  he  rode  it  for  many  years.  He  may 
be  called  the  Boswell  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
he  took,  not  merely  one  literary  colossus,  but  many 
interesting  celebrities  into  his  anecdotal  biography. 

What  then  does  this  valuable  witness  tell  us  about 
Bacon  ?  A  new,  astonishing,  and  for  the  present  con- 
troversy, a  most  important  fact.  Aubrey  says  :  "He 
was  TTacBepaa-TT]';.      His   Ganimeds   and   favourites   took 


A   STARTLING   WORD!  37 

bribes,  but  his  lordship  always  gave  judgment  secundum 
cequum  et  bonum.'^  *  The  latter  part  of  this  statement 
is  fully  corroborated  by  evidence  in  other  writers,  but 
the  first  few  words  contain  a  most  startling  fact  which 
I  have  not  met  with  in  any  Life  of  Bacon. 

How  is  it  that  this  serious  allegation  against  the 
great  Lord  Chancellor  is  apparently  unknown  ?  Perhaps 
it  has  been  looked  at  by  those  who  have  happened  to 
come  across  it  as  a  scandalum  magnatum  which  it  would 
be  unseemly  to  stir  up  or  even  to  notice,  on  account 
of  the  high  recognised  position  of  Bacon  in  English 
literature  and  history.  But  I  think  the  real  reason  is 
that  until  quite  recent  years  (1898),  it  has  really  been 
unknown.  It  was  in  Aubrey's  MSS.  at  the  Bodleian, 
and  had  been  there  for  many  years  ;  but  what  lite- 
rary student  in  ten  thousand  would  go  through  those 
intricate  jottings,  those  erasures  and  alterations,  or 
that  complicated  patchwork  of  many  memoranda  spread 
here  and  there  in  the  folio  pages  ?  Besides,  they  had 
been  already  edited  and  presented  to  the  public,  and 
most  students  had  read  them  in  this  printed  form.  I 
had  done  so,  years  ago,  when  I  was  only  a  general  reader, 
in  my  college  or  salad  days,  and  the  astounding  fact 
we  are  now  dealing  with  was  not  there.  It  had  been 
suppressed,  along  with  much  else  that  was  thought  too 
broad  and  unrefined  for  the  age. 

But  in  1898  a  distinguished  University  scholar,  re- 
cognising the  importance  of  old  Aubrey's  gatherings, 
published  a  much  larger  (but  still  not  quite  unexpurgated) 
edition,  and  on  re-reading  my  delightful  old  friend,  I 
came  upon  Bacon  in  a  character  hitherto  totally  un- 
suspected by  me. 

But  is  this  aira^  Xeyofievop  of  Aubrey  to  be 
accepted  as  a  probably  correct  statement,  or  as  simply 
a  piece  of  vulgar  gossip  without  real  foundation  ?  Is 
there  any  corroboration  in  Bacon's  life  or  works  for 
such  an  astounding  assertion  ?  I  am  sorry  to  say  there 
is ;  and,  all  things  considered,  the  amount  of  corrobora- 

*  Aubrey's  Brief  Lives,  edited  by  A.  Clark,  i.  71.     Oxford,  1898. 


38     THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

tion  is  larger  than  might  be  expected,  for  such  matters 
are  always  most  carefully  covered  under  the  veil  of 
secrecy  by  all  persons  in  any  way  connected  with  them. 

If  it  be  objected,  that  such  a  charge  is  ridiculous, 
that  it  has  not  a  leg  to  stand  upon,  and  that  there  is 
not  a  single  legal  or  official  document  or  record  of  any- 
thing of  the  kind  connected  with  Bacon,  I  would  ask 
these  objectors  to  hear  what  Bacon  himself  has  to  say 
about  the  treatment  of  high  official  records  by  those 
who  had  power  over  them.  He  says  in  his  History  of 
King  Henry  VII.  (Works,  Spedding,  vi.  38)  that  "  soon 
after  this  king  ascended  the  throne,  all  the  documents 
which  tended  to  taint  him  were  defaced,  cancelled,  and 
taken  off  the  file."  May  we  not  well  imagine  that  Lord 
Chancellor  Bacon,  who  enjoyed  the  friendship  and 
confidence  of  James  I.  (who  also  had  his  Ganymedes), 
would  be  able  with  little  difficulty  to  take  off  the  official 
files  any  documents  connected  with  any  charge  or  base 
attack  upon  himself,  especially  if  it  had  been  an  abortive 
one,  as  the  words  "  hunting  on  an  old  scent  "  would 
seem  to  imply  ? 

In  spite  of  the  many  high  qualities  of  Bacon,  both 
in  intellect,  and  as  I  believe  in  character  as  well,  he  was 
obliged  at  times  by  the  exigencies  of  his  social  and  political 
position  to  adopt  a  Machiavellian  policy  which  hardly 
received  indorsement  either  from  his  intellect  or  from 
his  conscience.  He  was  most  skilful  in  suppressing  that 
which  he  wished  to  conceal,  and  he  had  considerable 
practice  at  this  work  all  his  life.  He  had  a  great  deal 
to  do  with  the  Masques  at  Gray's  Inn,  and  the  Devices 
for  the  Earl  of  Essex  ;  we  may  say,  in  fact,  that  he  was 
the  prime  mover,  producer,  and  author  of  several  pieces 
of  this  description,  and  yet  his  name  is  kept  out  of  the 
business  in  a  most  marvellous  manner.  His  contem- 
poraries {e.g.  Rowland  White  and  others)  write  full 
descriptions  of  these  Devices  and  Masques  in  letters  to 
their  intimate  friends,  and  do  not  so  much  as  mention 
Bacon's  name  except  on  one  occasion,  where  he  is  given 
the  credit  of  getting  up  "  the  dumb  shows  "  of  a  certain 


A   GREAT   FABRICATOR  39 

Masque.  The  Earl  of  Essex  gets  all  the  credit  of  his 
Device,  and  the  inference  universally  was  that  he  was 
the  author  of  the  libretto.  But  it  was  nothing  of  the 
kind  ;  it  was  Bacon  who  wrote  the  speeches,  and  perhaps 
we  should  never  have  kno\vn  this  for  certain  unless  some 
rough  drafts  in  Bacon's  own  writing  had  accidentally 
been  preserved  in  the  Gibson  Papers,  and  the  famous 
Northumberland  MS.  had  revealed  to  us  other  pieces 
of  Bacon's  work.  Bacon  was  one  of  the  greatest  literary 
fabricators  (especially  of  letters  for  other  men)  and  one 
of  the  greatest  concealers  and  cancellers  of  his  own 
literary  work  that  perhaps  ever  existed,  apart  from 
professional  impostors.  He  would  fabricate  "Apologies  " 
with  the  greatest  readiness,  for  this  man  or  for  that, 
or  write  letters  in  their  name,  either  to  them  or  from 
them,  and  imitate  the  style  required  admirably.  He 
would  suppress  passages  in  important  parts  of  his  works, 
and  add  or  cancel  names  as  circumstances  might  require. 
I  think  many  people  quite  forget  this  when  they  put 
aside  Bacon  as  an  impossible  producer  of  the  Shakespeare 
works.  But  enough  has  been  brought  forward  here  of 
the  known  peculiarities  of  Bacon's  literary  life,  and  his 
astuteness  therein,  to  show  that,  combining  these  with 
his  official  position  as  Lord  Chancellor,  it  would  be  no 
difficult  matter  for  him  to  cancel  and  conceal  from 
posterity  every  atom  of  official  evidence  concerning 
this  scandal  which  had  ever  existed,  for  such  documents 
would  be  very  few  in  number,  and  would  be  in  "  archives," 
not  in  printed  books.  But  enough  about  this  possible 
objection. 

There  is  indirect  evidence  in  plenty,  and  before  dealing 
with  that,  it  will  be  as  well  to  get  a  clearer  view  of  the 
true  nature  of  the  charge  contained  in  Aubrey's  Greek 
word  iraiZepaarrj^.  In  the  first  place,  the  charge  is  not 
so  bad  as  it  sounds  to  the  classical  ear.  The  Elizabethans 
were  not  ancient  Greeks,  not  even  the  most  Italianated 
of  them  ;  there  were  no  gymnasia  and  no  gymnosophists 
in  Elizabethan  England  ;  the  cultus  of  the  nude  was 
not  in  evidence  in  those  days,  as  it  was  when  Pheidias 


40    THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

gave  supreme  expression  to  the  human  form  divine,  and 
when  Grecian  generals  took  their  favourite  minions  with 
them  in  their  campaigns.  Our  northern  climate  was 
different ;  our  institutions  and  habits  were  different ; 
the  whole  entourage  was  different,  and  excluded  the  special 
signification  of  Aubrey's  word  or  at  least  considerably 
modified  it. 

I  take  the  charge  against  Bacon  to  mean  something 
much  less  repulsive  than  the  Greek  vice  and  something 
infinitely  more  pardonable,  and  we  shall  find,  I  think, 
that  this  more  lenient  interpretation  of  the  scandal  is  to 
some  extent  borne  out  by  certain  well-authenticated  but 
rather  mysterious  circumstances  of  Bacon's  pubhc  life. 
We  shall  find  that  it  is  very  especially  corroborated  in 
numerous  allusions  in  the  Sonnets  and  also  in  the  other 
works  usually  attributed  to  Shakespeare  ;  but  in  the 
plays  not  so  pointedly  or  frequently  as  in  those  private 
''  sugred  "  poems,  which  were  certainly  never  meant  for 
public  or  general  perusal  but  for  his  special  "  friends  " 
alone. 

What  the  secret  scandal  really  was  will  be  best  seen 
as  evolved  in  the  course  of  the  evidence. 

L  The  hidden  scandal  in  Bacon's  life. 

It  is  admitted  in  limine  that  there  is  absolutely  no 
judicial  or  official  record  of  any  prosecution  of  Bacon 
on  such  or  similar  charge  at  any  period  of  his  life.  And 
it  must  also  be  admitted  that  if  such  a  charge  had  found 
its  way  to  official  record  in  any  inferior,  or,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  superior  court,  no  one  would  have  been  in  a 
better  position  to  erase  or  annul  the  record  than  Lord 
Chancellor  Bacon.     And  now  for  the  evidence  we  possess. 

Just  before  the  29th  April  1601,  there  was  a  most 
unseemly  squabble  between  the  Attorney-General  Coke 
and  Bacon,  "  publicly  in  the  Exchequer  the  first  day  of 
term,"  in  which  Coke  abused  Bacon  most  violently  and 
persistently.  The  abuse  had  its  origin  in  Bacon  raising 
some  legal  point  as  to  the  re-seizure  of  the  lands  of  George 
Moore,  a  relapsed  recusant,  and  showing  "  better  matter 
for   the   Queen   against   the   discharge   by  plea."     This 


TWO   LETTERS   TO   CECIL  41 

roused  Coke,  who  was,  as  a  rule,  overbearing  and  insolent 
to  the  juniors,  and  he  bade  Bacon  not  to  meddle  with 
the  Queen's  business,  but  to  mind  his  own.  Bacon  gave 
a  kind  of  tu  quoque  reply,  and  then  Coke  burst  out  again 
worse  than  before,  and  according  to  Bacon's  letter  of 
complaint  to  his  cousin  Mr.  Secretary  Cecil,  Coke  went 
on  to  say  :  "  It  were  good  to  clap  a  capias  utlegatum  upon 
my  back  !  To  which  I  only  said  he  could  not ;  and  that 
he  was  at  fault,  for  he  hunted  upon  an  old  scent.  He 
gave  me  a  number  of  disgraceful  words  besides,  which 
I  answered  with  silence,  and  showing  that  I  was  not 
moved  with  them."  Dr.  Abbott  [Life  of  Bacon,  p.  91) 
says  that  the  threat  of  capias  utlegatum  no  doubt  refers 
to  Bacon's  arrest  for  debt  in  September  1598.  But  I 
rather  question  this.  It  seems  to  be  some  scandalous 
charge  that  is  referred  to,  some  felony  or  charge  to  which 
Bacon  did  not  appear  personally  when  called  to  answer 
it,  and  so  incurred  the  penalties  of  an  outlaw.  It  is  clear 
that  Coke's  abuse  was  most  virulent,  for  the  letter  says 
that  his  words  and  tone  were  "  with  that  insulting  which 
cannot  be  expressed." 

Bacon  also  reminds  Cecil  in  this  same  letter  (April 
1 601)  that  he  was  using  boldness  in  addressing  him  on 
such  a  subject,  because  he  had  before  experienced  his 
cousin's  willingness  to  stand  up  for  him  jealously  when 
wronged.  "  I  am  bold  now,"  Bacon  writes,  "  to  possess 
your  Honour,  as  one  that  ever  I  found  careful  of  my 
advancement  and  yet  more  jealous  of  my  wrongs,  with 
the  truth  of  that  which  passed,  deferring  my  farther 
request  until  I  may  attend  your  Honour." 

And  earlier  in  1598,  when  Bacon  was  in  trouble  on 
account  of  being  arrested  for  debt,  he  had  also  written 
to  his  cousin  Cecil,  asking  him  to  help  in  repelling  the 
indignity  offered  to  him  by  arrest  while  on  her  Majesty's 
service,  and  says  further  :  "  How  sensitive  you  are  of 
wrongs  offered  to  your  blood  in  my  particular,  I  have 
had  not  long  since  experience." 

I  suggest  that  with  these  letters  before  us,  it  seems 
highly   probable    that    Cecil   had   protected   his    cousin 


42     THE  SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

Francis  Bacon  some  time  previously,  when  some  un- 
pleasant and  probably  disgraceful  charge  had  been  either 
brought  against  him  or  threatened — a  charge  that  would 
tarnish  the  fame  or  throw  disgrace  in  a  smaller  degree 
on  his  blood  relations  and  home  circle.  Still  further, 
we  can  date  this  odium  or  charge  as  "  not  long  "  before 
1598,  the  date  of  his  reference  to  it  in  his  letter  to  Cecil. 
This  would  bring  us  to  the  years  1596-7  as  a  possible 
limit  for  the  time  of  the  scandal,  and  this  date  agrees 
remarkably  well  with  the  allusions  in  the  Sonnets. 

As  far  as  I  can  make  out  the  old  legal  term  capias 
utlegattim*  it  appears  to  have  to  do  with  either  treason 
or  felony,  and  the  suggestion  that  the  Attorney-General 
Coke,  who  was  Bacon's  lifelong  enemy,  referred  mainly 
to  the  arrest  for  debt  in  1598,  seems  to  me  wholly  un- 
tenable. What  was  there  so  very  disgraceful  in  this 
arrest  ?  How  could  this  charge  of  itself  be  so  terribly 
insulting  ?  Besides,  it  appears  that  Bacon  had  purged 
himself  from  that  charge,  nor  was  this  an  "  old  scent." 
Neither  could  it  be  treason  that  Coke  referred  to  ;  for 
if  the  Essex  case  looked  bad  for  Bacon,  and  the  play  of 
Richard  II.,  which  Bacon  seemed  to  fear  that  some  busy- 
bodies  would  father  on  him  as  "  one  of  his  own  tales," 
looked  still  more  treasonable,  yet  these  things  had  only 
just  occurred,  and  reference  to  them  could  hardly  be 
called  "  hunting  on  an  old  scent  "  ;  so  I  cannot  but  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  this  scandal,  which  Coke  raised 
so  brutally  and  violently  (as  was  his  wont  at  times  of 
passion)  against  his  rival,  and  which  Bacon  received  for 
the  most  part  in  silence,  had  reference  to  some  charge 
or    information   laid   against   Bacon's   moral    character, 

*  As  far  as  the  old  law-books  and  dictionaries  help  us,  we  find  that  the 
Latin  words  used  by  Coke  referred  to  what  in  plain  English  would  be  a 
"  Writ  of  Outlawry,"  which  was  thus  defined :  "  When  an  indictment  has  been 
found  in  any  Court  of  oyer  and  terminer,  or  general  or  quarter  sessions,  against 
a  person,  and  that  when  a  justice  of  the  peace,  being  applied  to,  shall  issue  a 
warrant  for  his  apprehension,  then  if  he  shall  keep  away  or  cannot  be  found, 
he  is  liable  to  be  outlawed,  and  if  the  charge  be  treason  or  felony  the  writ 
would  be  capias  utle_i;atum ;  but  if  the  charge  were  only  for  misdemeanours 
of  less  gravity,  the  writ  would  be  venire  facias." 


NOSCITUR   A  SOCIIS  43 

and  was  most  likely  to  have  had  its  origin  in  his  great 
familiarity  and  friendship  with  youthful  persons  of 
his  own  sex.  Nothing  raises  suspicion  among  the 
foul-minded  vulgar  more  easily  than  such  a  companion- 
ship as  this,  which  they,  with  their  low  ideas,  can 
only  interpret  in  one  way.  I  believe  that  Bacon  was 
innocent  of  such  a  charge,  supposing  it  to  have  been 
made,  and  that  Coke  in  his  temper  made  himself  the 
mouthpiece  of  mere  vulgar  report,  or  at  most  a  mis- 
taken suspicion  arising  therefrom.  Young  Francis 
Bacon  when  at  Gray's  Inn  and  engaged  in  arranging 
plays  and  masques  and  interludes,  was  a  very  different 
person  from  the  thoughtful  philosopher  of  Gorhambury, 
who  sat  in  his  arm-chair  and  mused  of  Man's  Power 
over  the  Elements  of  Nature.  He  associated  with  notorious 
libertines,  and,  as  will  be  seen,  was  a  bit  of  a  libertine 
himself.  He  was  the  bosom  friend  of  Southampton,  and 
afterwards  of  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  both 
young  men  notorious  for  debauchery,  and  almost  given 
up  to  the  attractions  of  the  theatres.  Southampton, 
with  whom  most  of  the  Sonnets,  and  all  the  early  ones, 
are  closely  connected,  was  far  the  worse  of  the  two.  The 
Earl  was  the  Adonis  of  his  passionate  admirer,  and  for 
him  had  been  written  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece, 
and  in  their  dedications  Bacon  had  enshrined  his  loved 
one's  name  while  time  should  last.  This  I  hope  to  show 
very  clearly  farther  on.  Bacon's  character  in  earlier 
life  and  his  then  associates  form  the  subject  now.  Well, 
another  close  friend  and  correspondent  was  Essex,  a  man 
who,  whether  married  or  a  bachelor,  was  constantly 
angering  Queen  Elizabeth  by  his  intrigues  with  her  maids 
of  honour,  not  simply  with  one  love-lorn  virgin  of  that 
vestal  band,  but  with  four  or  five.  Bacon's  cousins, 
the  two  Russell  girls,  were  among  the  number,  and  their 
aunt.  Lady  Anne  Bacon,  Francis  Bacon's  mother,  had 
to  lay  a  formal  complaint  against  Essex,  of  which  he 
admitted  part  and  promised  amendment. 

Antonio  Perez  was  another  great  friend  of  Bacon. 
He  came  over  to  England  in  the  summer  of  1593,  or 


44     THE   SCANDAL;    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

perhaps  earlier,  and  attached  himself  to  Essex,  mainly 
for  political  purposes.  Essex  supported  him  in  London, 
and  procured  for  him  £130  from  the  Queen,  as  a  pension. 
Perez  became  very  intimate  with  Francis  and  Anthony 
Bacon,  and  had  now  established  himself  for  a  time  in 
Bacon's  mansion  near  Twickenham  Park.  Bacon  found 
food  for  his  curiosity  and  ambition  in  the  conversation 
of  such  an  experienced  diplomat  as  was  Perez,  and  besides 
this,  Perez  was  a  very  quick-witted,  amusing,  and,  it 
must  be  added,  a  very  licentious  and  dissipated  man. 

Francis  Bacon's  mother,  the  Lady  Anne,  was  naturally 
alarmed  at  such  an  intimacy,  and  wrote  one  day  to  her 
son  Anthony  :  "I  pity  your  brother  ;  yet  so  long  as  he 
pities  not  himself,  but  keepeth  that  bloody  Perez,  yea  a 
coach  companion,  and  bed  companion,  a  proud,  profane, 
costly  fellow,  whose  being  about  him,  I  verily  fear,  the 
Lord  God  doth  mislike,  and  doth  less  bless  your  brother 
in  credit  and  otherwise  in  his  health."  * 

Lady  Anne  had  some  justification  in  speaking  of 
"  that  bloody  Perez,"  for  he  was  suspected  of  the  murder 
of  Escovedo,  and  his  illicit  relations  with  ladies  of  title 
were  notorious.  He  and  the  Princess  of  Eboli  were  once 
found  by  Escovedo,  who  was  a  kind  of  male  duenna  to 
the  lady,  en  el  estrado  en  cosas  deshonestas,  and  when 
Escovedo  threatened  to  tell  the  king  about  it,  the  princess 
replied  :  "  Escovedo,  do  so  if  you  like,  que  mas  quiero  el 
trasero  de  Antonio  Perez  que  al  rey^  Hardly  the  language 
one  would  expect  from  a  "  perfect  lady,"  but  it  helps 
us  to  understand  why  Lady  Anne,  who  was  very  strict 
and  proper,  and  herself  a  grim  duenna  to  the  maids  of 
honour  her  nieces  the  Russells,  and  others,  did  not  think 
Antonio  Perez  quite  the  right  person  for  her  son  Francis 
to  be  intimate  with. 

Somewhat  later  on  in  May  1594,  Lady  Anne  Bacon 
writes  to  her  son  Anthony,  strongly  condemning  the 
dangers  of  London  life.  Anthony  had  located  himself 
in  Bishopsgate  Street,  and  his  mother  disliked  the 
neighbourhood  very  much.     It  was  too  near,  she  said, 

*  Birch,  Memoirs y  i.  143. 


QUIS   CUSTODIET ?  45 

to  the  Bull  Inn,  where  plays  and  interludes  were  acted. 
The  servants  would  be  corrupted,  religion  would  be 
neglected,  and  so  on.  Francis  comes  in  for  his  share  of 
his  mother's  annoyance  as  well.  In  fact,  the  general 
impression  to  be  derived  from  Lady  Anne's  correspond- 
ence is  that  both  Francis  and  his  almost  inseparable 
brother  Anthony  were  both  somewhat  given  to  a  wild 
licentious  life,  frequenters  and  lovers  of  plays  and  masques, 
and  boon  companions  of  wealthy  young  bloods,  whose 
room,  in  Lady  Anne's  opinion,  would  be  far  better  than 
their  company.  We  have  hints  too  of  trouble  with  the 
servants  ;  their  conduct  seems  to  have  been  by  no  means 
satisfactory  to  her  ladyship  at  home,  and  she  evidently 
thought  that  London  and  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
theatres  would  neither  improve  their  behaviour  nor 
their  morals. 

We  have  other  evidence  about  Perez  besides  what 
comes  from  the  puritan-minded  Lady  Anne.  She  might  be 
suspected  of  prejudice  against  Perez  as  a  Roman  Catholic, 
and  of  jealousy  on  account  of  his  influence  over  her  two 
sons,  but  we  are  able  to  judge  Perez  out  of  his  own  mouth. 
There  is  a  letter  written  by  a  Mr.  Standen  to  Francis 
Bacon  in  March  or  April  1595,  from  which  we  learn  the 
kind  of  post  that  was  assigned  to  Perez — and  a  person 
more  unfitted  for  such  a  delicate  post  would  be  hard  to 
find.  Mr.  Standen  writes  :  "  It  is  resolved  that  Mr.  Perez 
shall  not  depart,  for  that  my  Lord  hath  provided  him 
here  with  the  same  office  that  eunuchs  have  in  Turkey, 
which  is  to  have  the  custody  of  the  fairest  dames  ;  so 
that  he  wills  me  to  write,  that  for  the  bond  he  hath  with 
my  Lord,  he  cannot  refuse  that  office."  *  About  this 
time  he  seems  to  have  become  very  intimate  with  Lady 
Rich,  who  writes  to  Anthony  Bacon  (May  3,  1596)  saying 
"  she  would  fain  hear  what  has  become  of  his  wandering 
neighbour,  Signor  Perez."  About  a  year  before  (March 
1595),  Perez  had  written  to  Lady  Rich  the  following 
rather  impudent  and  braggart  letter,  at  least  we  must 
so  consider  it  when  we  remember  his  post :    "  Signor 

*  Birch,  vol.  i.  p.  229. 


46     THE   SCANDAL:   EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

Wilson  hath  given  me  news  of  the  health  of  your  Lady- 
ships, the  three  sisters  and  goddesses,  as  in  particular  that 
all  three  have  amongst  yourselves  drunk  and  caroused 
unto  Nature,  in  thankfulness  of  what  you  owe  unto  her, 
in  that  she  gave  you  not  those  delicate  shapes  to  keep 
them  idle,  but  rather  that  you  push  forth  unto  us  here 
many  buds  of  those  divine  beauties.  To  these  gardeners 
I  wish  all  happiness  for  so  good  tillage  of  their  grounds. 
Sweet  ladies  mine,  many  of  these  carouses  !  O  what 
a  bower  I  have  full  of  sweets  of  the  like  tillage  and 
trimmage  of  gardens." 

This  unabashed  reprobate  goes  on  to  say  that  he 
has  written  a  book  full  of  such  secrets  as  some  persons 
would  not  like  to  have  known,  and  he  seems  to  hint 
that  on  his  return  to  England  these  people  must  pay 
if  they  wish  their  names  kept  out  of  his  book.  So  it 
seems  he  was  a  "  black-mailer  "  in  addition  to  his  other 
odious  quahties,  and  that  the  womanly  instinct  of  Lady 
Anne  had  pierced  through  the  veneer  of  the  polished  and 
travelled  Perez,  and  had  detected  the  baseness  that  was 
concealed  under  his  clever  and  insinuating  manners. 

Most  certainly  Perez  was  no  fitting  coach  or  bed 
companion  for  Francis  Bacon,  and  I  should  say  that  the 
style  of  their  free  conversation  was  a  little  different  from 
the  style  of  the  Instauratio  Magna  or  the  Novum  Organum. 
I  doubt  whether  Mr.  Spedding,  thorough  expert  on 
Bacon's  style  as  he  undoubtedly  is,  would  have  been 
able  to  identify  it  on  these  tete-d-tele  occasions.  May 
not  this  give  us  a  hint  why  this  same  great  authority  so 
resolutely  says  that  "  whoever  wrote  the  Plays  of  Shake- 
speare it  was  certainly  not  Bacon  "  ? 

This  dictum  of  so  great  a  Baconian  expert  is  almost 
the  greatest  stumbling-block  that  lies  in  the  way  of  the 
Baconian  theory.  For  if  Mr.  Spedding  cannot  judge 
of  Bacon's  style,  who  is  there  that  can  ?  But  may  not 
too  much  attention  have  been  paid  to  the  high  philo- 
sophical and  philanthropical  style  which  Bacon  chose 
in  order  to  clothe  his  message  to  the  world  with  due 
dignity,  and  too  little  heed  to  the  faculty  which  Bacon 


THE   GAY  YOUNG   COURTIER  47 

undoubtedly  possessed  and  gloried  in — the  faculty  of 
presenting  feigned  letters  and  compositions  under  other 
names  than  his  own,  and  so  working  out  his  object  under 
a  mask  or  veil  ?  Look  at  the  many  letters  he  certainly 
wrote  for  Essex,  and  also  some  most  probably  for  Pem- 
broke and  others  ;  even  for  Lord  Walsingham  as  early 
as  1590.  In  fact  Bacon  plumed  himself  on  his  skill  in 
"invention,"  and  as  for  our  Plays,  Sonnets,  and  Poems, 
why  may  not  they  be,  after  all,  the  hidden  works  of 
Bacon's  "  Invention  "  and  "  Recreation  "  ?  We  know  of 
cases  of  "  double  personality  "  in  the  domain  of  psychical 
research — why  may  there  not  be  double  personality  in 
the  domain  of  literary  style  ?  I  only  suggest  a  question, 
I  do  not  press  it,  nor  do  I  highly  value  the  theory. 

The  only  reason  I  have  dwelt  on  Perez'  and  Bacon's 
earlier  associations  at  such  a  length,  is  because  they  are 
to  a  great  extent  passed  over  in  the  ordinary  biographies 
of  Bacon.  Of  his  life  for  the  ten  or  twelve  years  after  his 
father's  death  (1580-1592)  we  really  hear  very  little, 
even  in  the  exhaustive  collections  of  his  best  biographer 
Spedding,  and  the  years  between  one's  majority  and  the 
age  of  thirty-two  or  thirty-three  are  most  important  for 
character  and  prospects.  Francis  Bacon  was  in  early  and 
early-middle  life  more  inclined  to  gay  and  fashionable 
society,  and  much  more  mixed  up  with  the  players  and 
theatrical  life  than  has  ever  been  imagined,  and  was 
more  in  touch  with  the  maids  of  honour  and  their  Christmas 
amusements,  their  masques,  their  virginals,  and  their 
loves,  than  any  of  his  biographers  have  given  him  credit 
for.  At  least  so  I  hope  to  make  it  appear  in  the  course 
of  my  argument. 

Thus  far  I  only  claim  to  have  shown  that  in  the 
recorded  life  of  Bacon  there  was  a  hidden  scandal  which 
was  more  akin  to  the  veiled  scandal  of  the  Sonnets  than 
anything  we  know  or  could  infer  from  what  has  been 
handed  down  to  us  about  Shakespeare,  their  reputed 
author.  Also  that  this  same  mysterious  something  with 
which  Coke  used  to  vilify  Bacon,  seems  to  corroborate  what 
Aubrey  has  plainly  stated  ;  and  moreover,  that  Bacon's 


48     THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

early  associates  and  surroundings,  so  distasteful  to  his  puri- 
tanical mother,  Lady  Anne,  point  more  to  the  authorship  of 
the  Plays  and  Sonnets  than  has  previously  been  supposed. 

Next  let  us  consider  what  the  hidden  scandal  of  the 
Sonnets  appears  to  be,  and  whether  it  points  to  the 
authorship  of  Shakespeare  or  of  Bacon.  But  before 
doing  this,  there  is  another  piece  of  evidence  to  which  I 
attach  some  importance,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  omitted 
in  the  present  connection.  It  concerns  the  unusual 
helplessness  in  which  Bacon  found  himself  with  regard  to 
authority  over  his  male  servants,  and  Spedding  accepts  it 
as  probably  a  true  history.  "  In  the  year  1655,  a  book- 
seller's boy  heard  some  gentlemen  talking  in  his  master's 
shop  ;  one  of  them,  a  grey-headed  man,  was  describing 
a  scene  which  he  had  himself  witnessed  at  Gorhambury. 
He  had  gone  to  see  the  Lord  Chancellor  on  business, 
who  received  him  in  his  study,  and  having  occasion  to 
go  out,  left  him  there  for  awhile  alone.  '  Whilst  his 
Lordship  was  gone,  there  comes,'  he  said,  '  into  the  study 
one  of  his  Lordship's  gentlemen,  and  opens  my  Lord's 
chest  of  drawers  wherein  his  money  was  and  takes  it 
out  in  handfuls  and  fills  both  his  pockets,  and  goes  away 
without  saying  any  word  to  me.  He  was  no  sooner  gone 
when  in  comes  a  second  gentleman,  opens  the  same 
drawers,  fills  both  his  pockets  with  money,  and  goes 
away  as  the  former  did  without  speaking  a  word  to  me.' 
Bacon  being  told  when  he  came  back  what  had  passed 
in  his  absence,  merely  '  shook  his  head,  and  all  that  he 
said  was,  '  Sir,  I  cannot  help  myself.'  "  * 

The  relater  of  the  tale  commented  on  it  in  a  curious 
and  suggestive  manner,  for  he  thought  that  Bacon's 
manner  was  so  strange  when  told  of  the  thefts,  that  it 
struck  him  that  Bacon's  servants  must  have  had  some 
mysterious  power  over  him,  and  that  Lord  Bacon  had 
some  fault ;  whatever  it  was  he  could  not  tell. 

This  Gorhambury  anecdote  would  refer  to  a  later  period 
of  Bacon's  life  than  when  the  Sonnets  were  written,  and 
would  correspond  more  with  the  time  of  his  life  to  which 

*  Preface  to  *'  On  The  Cries  of  the  Oppressed,''  by  M.  Pitt  in  1691. 


THE   LETTERS   OF   LADY   ANNE  49 

old  Aubrey  refers,  i.e.,  when  Bacon  was  in  a  high  judicial 
position,  and  "his  Ganimeds  and  favourites  took  bribes." 

But  there  are  some  letters  written  earlier  than  this, 
in  April  1593,  which  appear  very  compromising  for 
Francis  Bacon,  and  have  a  worse  appearance  in  regard 
to  the  scandal  than  his  familiar  acquaintance  with  Perez, 
which  I  have  recently  related  from  Birch's  well-known 
Memoirs.  They  are  original  letters  from  Lady  Anne 
Bacon  to  her  son  Anthony,  and  they  complain  very 
strongly  of  the  behaviour  of  the  male  servants  that 
Francis  Bacon  kept  about  him.  "  There  was,"  she  says, 
"  that  Jones,  and  Edney,*  a  filthy  wasteful  knave,  and 
his  Welshmen  one  after  another."  Until  they  came,  the 
poor  mother  writes,  "  he  (Francis)  was  a  towardly  young 
gentleman,  and  a  son  of  much  good  hope  in  godliness." 
And  she  adds,  "  he  hath  nourished  most  sinful  proud 
villains  wilfully  ;  "  and  ends  thus  :  "  For  I  will  not  have 
his  cormorant  seducers  and  instruments  of  Satan  to  him 
committing  foul  sin  by  his  countenance,  to  the  displeasing 
of  God  and  his  godly  true  fear." 

Now  this  letter  was  written  just  about  the  time  that 
Venus  and  Adonis  was  being  given  to  the  world,  and 
supplies  us  with  a  good  reason  why  Bacon  should  not 
care  to  have  his  name  mixed  up  with  it,  even  if  it  came 
from  his  fertile  brain.  He  had  to  reckon  with  his  mother, 
who  was  a  lady  of  considerable  force  of  character,  and 
held  both  her  sons  somewhat  in  her  power  in  money 
matters.  The  pecuniary  difficulties  of  Francis  were 
the  original  cause  of  these  letters  and  the  strong 
remarks  contained  in  them.  Francis  wanted  to  pay  his 
debts  by  selling  an  estate  called  Markes,  that  had  been 
left  to  him,  but  he  could  not  sell  without  the  consent  of 
his  mother,  who  as  dowager  would  have  her  widow's 
third.  Anthony,  who  was  always  trying  to  help  his 
brother,  wrote  an  appeal  to  his  mother  to  let  Francis 
have  power  to  sell  the  estate  altogether,  for  the  sake  of 

*  This  name  has  always  been  deciphered  as  Enney  ;  so  Spedding  and  the 
rest  have  it.  I  have  replaced  Edney  from  the  MS.  Lady  Bacon  seems  to 
mean  Idney,  of  whom  I  speak  presently. 

D 


50     THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

his  brother's  health  and  peace  of  mind,  which  were  both 
in  a  bad  state  just  then.  Lady  Anne  Bacon  eventually 
consented,  but  there  were  more  letters,  which  are  given 
(in  part)  in  Spedding.*  They  are  worth  reading  entirely, 
and  throw  a  strong  light  on  the  unwholesome  and  un- 
scrupulous kind  of  young  servants  by  whom  Bacon  was 
surrounded — at  least  so  his  mother  thought.  It  seems 
they  were  mainly  Welshmen,  and  of  a  low  class,  for  his 
mother  writes,  "  He  is  robbed  and  spoiled  wittingly  by 
his  base  exalted  men,  which  with  Welsh  wiles  prey  upon 
him."  "  That  Jones  never  loved  your  brother  .  .  .  but 
your  brother  will  be  blind  to  his  own  hurt.  .  .  .  The  Lord 
in  his  mercy  remove  them  from  him,  and  evil  from  you 
both."  And  again,  she  writes  :  "  Oh  that  he  had  not 
procured  his  own  early  discredit,  but  had  joined  with 
God  that  hath  bestowed  on  him  good  gifts  of  natural  wit 
and  understanding." 

These  "  base  exalted  "  Welshmen  remind  me  of  the 
many  Welsh  characters  in  Shakespeare's  plays,  and  the 
great  credit  critics  have  given  him  for  the  lifelike  way 
in  which  the  Stratford  man  reproduces  the  broken  Welsh- 
English  lingo,  and  the  Welsh  character.  According  to 
Lady  Anne  just  now  (1593)  and  earlier,  Bacon  had  been 
living  almost  in  an  atmosphere  of  Welsh  cunning  and 
Welsh  lingo,  and  was  therefore  quite  qualified  to  give  the 
speaking  portraits  of  Captain  Fluellen  and  Sir  Hugh 
Evans  we  find  in  the  Shakespeare  plays. 

But  there  is  stronger  evidence  still — evidence  that 
almost  proves  Lady  Anne  right,  when  she  said  that 
Francis  was  "  blind  to  his  own  hurt."  It  appears  that 
Bacon  used  to  sleep  with  one  of  his  men-servants  and 
take  him  out  with  him  in  his  coach.  This  was  defying 
public  opinion  indeed.  This  was  almost  asking  the 
tongue  of  vulgar  scandal  to  wag.  The  name  of  this 
servant  was  Percy,  and  it  is  to  the  laborious  Spedding 
that  we  owe  his  name.  Percy  turns  Perez  out  of  Bacon's 
bed,  and  occupies  the  place  himself.  This  is  far  worse 
than  I  have  been  supposing.     I  first  read  about  Perez 

*  Life  and  Letters  of  Bacon,  i.  243-246. 


PERCY   OR   PEREZ?  51 

in  Birch's  Memoirs,  and  was  surprised  at  Bacon's  unusual 
intimacy  with  such  a  profligate  character,  and  found  an 
historical  reason  why  Lady  Anne  should  call  him  "  bloody 
Perez."     I  noted  these  things  down,  and  not  long  after 
I  found  that  the  conscientious  Spedding  had  been  to 
Lambeth  and   had   read  through  all  Lady  Anne's  let- 
ters in  her  own  handwriting,   and   that  he  had  found 
that  Birch  had  wrongly  deciphered  Lady  Bacon's  rather 
difficult  writing,  and  that  the  "  bloody  Perez  "  who  was 
bed  and  coach  companion  to  Francis,  should  really  have 
been  the  "  bloody  Percy."     As  Spedding  thinks,  a  Henry 
Percy,  one  of  Francis  Bacon's  servants,  was  here  meant. 
But  why  "  bloody  "  ?    That  word  suits  Perez  much  better. 
However,  in  any  case,  whether  Perez  or  Percy  shared 
the  bed,  it  caused  Lady  Anne  to  use  very  strong  language, 
and  evidently  worried  her  very  much.     Of  the  two,  Percy 
would  cause   the   greater  scandal,   for   Percy  from  his 
position  in  the  household  should  certainly  have  had  a 
room  of  his  own  ;   whereas  Perez  as  an  occasional  visitor 
and   perhaps   entertained   unawares    (though   no   angel) 
might  well  receive  the  hospitality  of  Bacon's  own  chamber. 
Dr.  Abbott,  dealing  with  this  matter  of  Lady  Anne 
in  his  Bacon  and  Essex  (p.  46),  quotes  "  bloody  Percy  " 
as  a   "  couch  companion  and  bed  companion."     These 
variations  induced  me  to  go  to  Lambeth,  and  inspect 
for  myself  the  original  there  carefully  preserved.     I  found 
Lady  Anne's  writing  extremely  hard  to  decipher ;    the 
paper  she  used  was  more  like  blotting  paper,  and  her 
pens  must  have  been  very  bad.     But  I  found  that  she 
wrote  "  coch  companion  "  ;    there  is  no  doubt  of  that, 
and  as  that  was  an  early  way  of  spelling  the  name  of  the 
vehicle,  after  the  French  fashion,  I  think  couch  may  be  dis- 
missed.   The  name  Percy  or  Perez  is  much  more  dubious. 
I  could  only  read  it  as  Peerer,  which  rather  favours  the 
Spanish  gentleman.     "  Bloody  "  also  was  a  puritanical 
epithet  for  Papists,  "  Bloody  Queen  Mary  "  to  wit. 

I  have  somewhat  to  remark  on  one  paragraph  of 
Lady  Anne  Bacon's  letter  as  given  by  Spedding ;  it  is 
as  follows  (i.  244)  :  "  It  is  most  certain  till  first  Enney  (?), 


52     THE   SCANDAL:    EXTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

a  filthy  wasteful  knave,  and  his  Welshmen  one  after 
another  .  .  .  did  so  lead  him  as  in  a  train,  he  was  a 
towardly  young  gentleman,  and  a  son  of  much  good 
hope  in  godliness."  Mr.  Spedding  puts  a  note  of  inter- 
rogation after  Enney's  name,  either  because  he  was 
uncertain  whether  it  had  been  correctly  deciphered,  or 
because  he  knew  no  one  connected  with  Bacon  of  that 
name.  I  read  the  doubtful  word  as  Edney.  I  suggest 
that  Edney  may  be  a  Mr.  Idney,  whom  we  hear  of  through 
Aubrey,  who  says,  "  Three  of  his  Lordship's  servants 
kept  their  coaches,  and  some  kept  race-horses  ;  "  and  in 
a  side-note  Aubrey  adds  that  the  three  servants  were 
*'  Sir  Thomas  Meautys,  Mr.  Thomas  Bushell,  and  Mr. 
Idney."  The  first  two  are  well  known  to  Bacon's  bio- 
graphers, but  what  became  of  the  last  I  know  not.* 

So  far  then,  I  think  it  must  be  generally  admitted 
that  we  have  a  considerable  amount  of  good  and  un- 
deniable external  evidence  that  Bacon  was  given  to 
unusual  intimacy  with  loose  and  unprincipled  people, 
some  of  whom  were  beneath  him  in  position,  and  that 
he  was  also  on  terms  of  friendship  with  wild  and  licentious 
gallants  of  his  own  class.  There  is  evidence  that  he 
gained  discredit  by  such  a  manner  of  life  with  his  mother, 
and  no  doubt  with  other  strict-living  people,  and  that 
he  was  once  publicly  discredited  by  his  old  enemy  Coke 
on  some  old  and  disgraceful  charge,  possibly  of  this 
same  character,  or  worse. 

The  external  evidence  for  a  scandal  in  Bacon's  life  is 
stronger  and  clearer  than  is  usual  for  a  man  so  highly 
placed,  and  can  hardly  be  dismissed.  Next  let  us  take 
the  internal  evidence  for  a  similar  scandal  in  the  author 
of  the  Sonnets,  which  is  also  strong. 

*  There  was  a  William  Edney  connected  with  the  Chapel  Royal  (1569- 
1581),  and  there  was  a  Peter  Edney,  an  excellent  singer,  who  might,  as  far  as 
chronology  helps  us,  easily  be  his  son.  This  Peter  Edney  receives  much 
praise  for  his  "grace  and  musical  talent"  from  John  Davies  of  Hereford. 
Bacon  might  well  have  taken  him  as  a  page,  or  in  some  other  personal  service, 
when  he  left  his  father  and  the  Chapel  Royal  surroundings,  which  latter  were 
not  the  best  seminary  for  a  graceful  boy.  Of  course  this  is  mere  conjecture 
from  the  name  alone  ;  but  Edney  is  by  no  means  a  common  name,  and  there 
may  be  something  in  the  coincidence. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SCANDAL  :  INTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

To  any  reader  who  has  the  shghtest  acquaintance  with 
those  gems  of  EngHsh  verse  known  as  "  Shakespeare's 
Sonnets,"  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  the  author,  who- 
ever he  may  be,  does  pathetically  confess  and  bewail 
some  "  blot,"  some  "  offence  "  or  "  guilt  "  of  his,  some 
"  lameness,"  which  metaphorically  crippled  his  better 
nature  (for  mere  physical  lameness  hardly  seems  to  suit 
the  different  passages),  some  result  in  some  way  of  his 
"  sportive  blood,"  which  others  with  their  "  false  adulte- 
rate eyes  "  had  esteemed  vile.  Men's  thoughts  about 
the  author's  "  frailties  "  are  described  as  "  rank  thoughts," 
and  altogether  we  may  say  that  something  unusual  and 
unpleasant  of  a  sexual  character  is  clearly  meant.  The 
author  gives  us  many  other  hints  similar  in  character 
and  phraseology  to  those  quoted  above  in  the  inverted 
commas,  and  several  Sonnets  have  more  or  less  reference 
to  this  peculiar  subject  of  scandal,  but  cxx.  and  cxxi. 
are  perhaps  the  strongest.  We  must  not,  however,  forget 
that  even  in  these  he  defends  his  innocence,  or  partly 
leads  us  to  infer  it.  Thus,  the  first  four  lines  of  Sonnet 
cxxi.  certainly  go  far  to  make  us  think  that  the  author's 
offence  never  went  beyond  intention,  and  the  same  remark 
applies  elsewhere,  as  in  Sonnet  cix.,  where  he  excuses 
and  accuses  himself  in  this  remarkable  phraseology  : 

"  Never  beleeve  though  in  my  nature  raign'd 
All  frailties  that  besiege  all  kindes  of  blood, 
That  it  could  so  preposterouslie  be  stain'd 
To  leave  for  nothing  all  thy  summe  of  good  ; 
For  nothing  this  wide  Universe  I  call, 
Save  thou,  my  Rose,  in  it  thou  art  my  all." 

Now  preposterouslie  is  a  significant  adverb  here,  and 

S3 


54    THE  SCANDAL:    INTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

there  seems  to  be  more  in  this  word  than  meets  the  eye. 
We  shall  find  it  used  in  what  is  evidently  a  similar  con- 
nection in  Troilus  and  Cressida  (Act  V.  sc.  i.),  and  if  we 
remember  that  this  play  is  the  very  one  which  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  "  purge  "  that  Shakespeare  gave  to  Ben 
Jonson  in  return  for  his  bitter  attacks  on  the  play- writers 
in  the  Poetaster,  we  shall  understand  the  force  of  the 
word  still  better.  For  Ben  Jonson  had  hinted  pretty 
plainly  that  one,  if  not  all  of  them,  belonged  to  that 
disgraceful  class  of  men  whom  the  Romans  called  cincedi, 
as  will  be  seen  further  on  when  I  deal  with  Ben  Jonson 
and  Bacon,  and  the  way  in  which  Bacon  is  implicated  in 
the  charge  as  a  young  Alcibiades.  The  Shakespeare 
passage  where  the  word  now  in  question  occurs  is  a 
dialogue  between  "  rank  Thersites,"  the  universal  vilifier, 
and  Patroclus,  the  unsullied  bosom  friend  of  Achilles  : 

Thersites.  Pr'ythee  be  silent,  boy,  I  profit  not  by  thy  talk  ;  thou 
art  thought  to  be  Achilles'  male  varlet. 

Patroclus.  Male  varlet,  you  rogue  !  what's  that  ? 

Thersites.  Why,  his  masculine  whore.  Now  the  rotten  diseases 
of  the  south  .  .  .  take  and  take  again  such  preposterous  discoveries. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  application  of  the 
word  here,  and  thus  some  light  is,  I  think,  thrown  upon 
the  meaning  of  the  word  in  the  Sonnet. 

Moreover,  in  Othello  (I.  iii.  330)  we  have  this  word 
preposterous  again  used  in  a  similar  connection  ;  lago 
says  : 

"If  the  balance  of  our  lives  had  not  one  scale  of  reason  to  poise 
another  of  sensuality,  the  blood  and  baseness  of  our  natures  would 
conduct  us  to  most  preposterous  conclusions." 

And  these  words  of  the  Sonnet  were  addressed  to  a 
young  MAN,  which  makes  them  stranger  still.  "My 
Rose ! "  it  seems  so  very  inappropriate.  Indeed,  Gerald 
Massey,  who  devoted  so  many  years  to  these  mysteries,  will 
not  believe  that  the  Sonnet  was  to  a  man  at  all.  He  says, 
"  The  Rose  is  a  female  emblem,"  and  that  he  should  no 
more  think  of  calling  a  man  "  my  Rose,"  than  of  calling 
him  "  my  tulip." 

The  Sonnets  which  deal  with  the  peculiar  "  bewailed 


MARY  FITTON  55 

guilt "  of  the  author  seem  to  be  xxxvi.,  ex.,  cxii.,  and 
cxviii.-cxxii.,  and  any  one  carefully  considering  the 
repeated  self-accusations  they  contain  can  have  little 
doubt  that  these  Sonnets  are  distinctly  autobiographical. 
I  know  some  good  authorities  have  held  the  opinion  that 
these  Sonnets  contain  no  key  to  the  author's  real  life 
but  are  simply  works  of  his  poetic  fancy,  trials  of  imagina- 
tive skill,  as  was  the  usual  habit  with  many,  and  indeed 
most  of  the  Ehzabethan  sonneteers.  This  fashion  in 
sonnets  may  be  admitted  as  pretty  general,  but  no  writer 
has  ever  dwelt  on  his  own  abasement  and  infamy  as  it 
is  exhibited  here. 

There  is  just  a  possibility  that  the  scandal  was  con- 
nected with  Mary  Fitton,  for  in  Sonnet  cxix.,  which 
is  included  in  the  criminating  sequence,  we  have  the 
suggestive  lines  : 

"  How  have  mine  eyes  out  of  their  spheres  httn  Jitted 
In  the  distraction  of  this  madding  fever  ;" 

and  the  punning  word  "  fitted,"  in  connection  with  her 
name,  is  not  without  other  examples — Fitton,  fit  one,  &c., 
and  especially  Sonnet  CLi. : 

"  flesh  stays  no  farther  reason. 
But  rising  at  thy  name,  doth  point  out  thee 
As  his  triumphant  prize." 

And  moreover,  there  certainly  seems  to  have  been  some 
peculiar  scandal  about  the  Pembroke-Fitton  case,  apart 
from  Pembroke,  when  we  consider  the  abrupt  departure 
of  Mary  and  her  father  from  town,  and  the  fact  of  Pem- 
broke renouncing  marriage  for  some  reason  not  clearly 
stated.  Bacon  certainly  knew  Mary  well,  for  did  not  she 
and  his  cousins  the  Russells  act  and  dance  together  in 
masques  at  court,  and  private  interludes  before  the 
Queen  ?  Moreover,  we  are  told  of  this  rather  audacious 
young  maid  of  honour  that  she  would  tuck  up  her  clothes 
and  put  on  a  large  cloak  like  a  man,  and  go  forth  to  meet 
her  lover,  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke.  This 
kind  of  male-impersonation  would  commend  itself  strongly 
to  a  man  of  Bacon's  temperament,  as  Aubrey  would  have 


56    THE  SCANDAL:    INTERNAL  EVIDENCE 

it  to  be.  She  would  be  like  the  charming  Rosalinds  and 
other  maidens  in  doublet  and  hose  which  meet  us  in  the 
pages  of  the  immortal  plays.  I  admit  much  of  this  is 
mainly  fanciful,  but  I  also  submit  that  it  is  most  curious 
and  suggestive  if  taken  in  connection  with  Aubrey's  most 
positive  statement.  Anyhow,  I  will  assert  with  some 
degree  of  confidence  that  Francis  Bacon  was  a  much  more 
likely  man  to  sit  by  Mary  Fitton  when  she  was  playing 
the  virginals,  and  to  "  envy  those  jacks  that  nimble  leap 
to  kiss  the  tender  inward  of  her  hand,"  and  then  after- 
wards write  Sonnet  cxxviii.  as  a  record  of  the  sweet 
experience — a  much  more  likely  man,  I  say,  than  was 
William  Shakespeare. 

There  is  an  atmosphere  of  aristocratic  life  and  refine- 
ment about  the  Sonnets,  in  which  I  think  the  Warwick- 
shire rustic  would  breathe  with  difficulty.  This  view 
of  the  case  is  also  helped  by  that  expression  of  Sonnet 
cxxv.,  "  Hence  thou  suborned  Informer'''  where  In- 
former is  meant  to  be  a  significant  word,  being  one  of  the 
few  words  put  in  italics  in  the  original  edition  of  the 
Sonnets,  and  implying  a  hidden  reference  for  those  who 
knew.  I  take  the  Informer  to  be  Sir  William  Knollys, 
who  appeared  in  the  Essex  trial  in  that  thankless  char- 
acter, and  may  possibly  have  informed  against  Bacon 
and  Mary  Fitton  as  well.  He  was  a  lover  of  the  wanton 
maid  himself,  and  would  keep  a  jealous  look-out  on  her 
doings,  and  an  effective  one  too,  as  he  was,  so  to  speak, 
on  the  spot,  and  could  get  to  her  by  the  "  postern  door," 

as  is  well  known  he  did  one  night,  with  his  a e  *  in  his 

hand.  But  that  is  another  story.  All  I  want  to  show 
here  is,  that  the  secret  scandal  of  the  Sonnets  points 
much  more  to  Bacon  as  the  real  author  of  these  strange 
confessions  than  to  Shakespeare. 

And  if  we  consider  the  Poems,  and  especially  the 
Venus  and  Adonis,  and  that  bashful  smooth-faced  boy 
therein  depicted  with  all  a  lover's  fervour,  what  are  we 
to  think  ?     Must  we  not  feel  how  Adonis  recalls  the 

*  What  this  was  will  appear  further  on.     I  leave  it  for  the  present  for  the 
reader's  skill  in  guessing.     I  do  not  think  any  one  will  succeed. 


ADONIS   IN   THE   SONNETS  57 

Southampton  of  the  Sonnets,  and  is  his  very  "  counter- 
feit," our  author's  "  lovely  boy  "  ?  Do  we  not  see  how 
Adonis,  with  his  half-girhsh  coyness  and  tempting  inex- 
perience, as  yet  unassailed,  represents,  in  a  way,  the 
"  master-mistress  "  of  the  author's  passion,  who  was  to 
live  in  eternal  lines  in  these  very  poems  ?  For  the 
Sonnets  were  a  private  message,  for  private  friends,  not 
for  the  world  of  fame.  They  were,  at  least  some  of  them, 
of  the  nature  of  a  secret  embassy  accompanying  or 
preceding  the  powerful  rhymes  that  were  openly  to  give 
Hfe  and  fame  to  the  "  lovely  boy  "  whose  name  was  on 
the  dedication  page : 

"  So  long  as  men  can  breathe,  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee." 

Have  we  not  here,  in  the  Poems  as  well  as  in  the  Sonnets, 
Bacon  TracSepaarrj^;  —  Bacon  a  born  lover  of  youthful 
semi-feminine  beauty,  rather  than  Shakespeare,  a  virile 
married  man  and  the  father  of  twins  ? 

Of  course,  as  the  poem  of  Venus  and  Adonis  was  to 
be  open  to  the  eyes  of  the  public,  not  a  word  of  scandal 
or  male-love  do  we  hear ;  but  the  tendency  is  but  half- 
concealed  when  we  read  in  impassioned  lines  how  fair  the 
young  Adonis  was. 

In  the  Plays  the  tendency  would  be  more  concealed 
still,  for  they  would  be  acted  in  public  as  well  as  read  in 
the  pirated  quartos,  and  allusions  were  always  keenly 
looked  for  by  the  observant  Elizabethan  audience.  The 
Plays,  too,  were  historical  more  than  autobiographical. 

But  there  are  indications  now  and  then,  if  only  slight 
ones.     Take  this  from  Hamlet : 

"  So  oft  it  chances  in  particular  men 
That  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them, 
As  in  their  birth — wherein  they  are  not  guilty — 
Since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin  .  .  . 
Carrying,  I  say,  the  stamp  of  one  defect, 
Being  nature's  livery,  or  fortune's  star— 
Their  virtues  .  .  . 

Shall  in  the  general  censure  take  corruption 
From  that  particular  fault." 

— Hamlety  Act  I.  sc.  iv.  1.  30. 


58     THE   SCANDAL:    INTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

And  Biron  (who  represents  in  so  many  ways  the  author) 
says  : 

"  For  every  man  with  his  affects  is  born, 
Not  by  might  mastered,  but  by  special  grace." 

— Loves  Labour's  Lost,  Act  I.  sc.  i. 

And  what  is  still  more  remarkable,  we  find  that  the 
admirable  lines  just  quoted  from  Hamlet  were  all  struck 
out  from  the  last  revision  of  the  Plays  in  the  folio  of  1623. 
Did  the  editor  of  the  foUo  (Ben  Jonson  ?)  do  this  to 
prevent  any  inference  being  drawn  against  the  true 
author  ?  or  did  Bacon  and  Ben  Jonson  jointly  withdraw 
the  passage,  fine  as  it  was,  on  the  well-known  principle 
of  "  the  least  said,  the  soonest  mended  "  ?  We  must  not 
forget  that  there  was  another  possible  reason  for  the 
omission  of  this  passage,  and  that  is,  that  the  Sonnets 
had  been  given  to  the  public  since  the  quarto  Hamlet 
was  printed,  and  they  might  raise  suspicions  in  people's 
minds,  for  in  the  Sonnets  there  were  allusions  to  "  For- 
tune's spite  "  and  "  Nature's  defect,"  and  people  might 
put  two  and  two  together. 

And  there  are  several  suggestive  passages  in  that 
little-read  poem  A  Lover^s  Complaint,  by  William  Shake- 
speare,  printed  at  the  end  of  the  original  edition  of  the 
Sonnets  in  1609.  It  is  a  poem  allied  to  Lucrece  in  metre 
and  some  other  points,  and  allied  to  Bacon  in  its  law 
terms  and  similes.     Here  are  two  stanzas  : 

"  Nor  gives  it  satisfaction  to  our  blood. 
That  wee  must  curbe  it  uppon  others  proofe. 
To  be  forbod  the  sweets  that  seemes  so  good. 
For  feare  of  harmes  that  preach  in  our  behoofe  ; 
O  appetite  from  judgement  stand  aloofe. 
The  one  a  pallate  hath  that  needs  will  taste, 
Though  reason  weepe  and  cry  it  is  thy  last." 

"  All  my  offences  that  abroad  you  see 
Are  errors  of  the  blood,  none  of  the  mind  : 
Love  made  them  not,  with  acture  they  may  be. 
Where  neither  Party  is  nor  trew  nor  kind  ; 
They  sought  their  shame  that  so  their  shame  did  find, 
And  so  much  lesse  of  shame  in  me  remaines. 
By  how  much  of  me  their  reproch  containes." 


YORICK   AND  TARLTON  59 

I  am  half-ashamed  to  say  that  I  have  only  just  read 
this  poem  for  the  first  time.  It  seems  to  be  written  in  a 
lofty  Shakespearian  vein,  abounding  in  imagination  and 
exquisite  phrasing.  Stanzas  xii.-xxi.  would  suit  yoimg 
WiUiam  Herbert  very  well,  but  the  maiden  seems  more 
chaste  and  reserved  than  the  volatile  Mary  Fitton  had 
the  reputation  of  being  at  the  time. 

Mr.  W.  C.  Hazlitt  has  lately  (1902)  written  a  volume 
entitled  Shakespear,  with  a  view  to  improve  upon  the 
famous  Life  of  Shakespeare  by  Sidney  Lee.  Mr.  Hazlitt's 
knowledge  of  curious  and  out-of-the-way  Elizabethan 
literature  is  unrivalled,  and  I  bought  the  book  at  once, 
expecting  a  flood  of  light  on  an  undoubtedly  obscure 
subject,  and  possibly  a  clearing  up  of  the  Sonnet-scandal 
question.  I  must  say  I  was  much  disappointed.  I  will 
give  an  instance  or  two.  Mr.  Hazlitt  takes  Yorick  to 
be  Richard  Tarlton,  the  popular  jester  and  low-comedian. 
Very  likely  that  is  so  ;  I  had  already  deduced  an  argu- 
ment from  the  same  supposition  in  the  present  book. 
But,  being  an  orthodox  believer,  he  has  to  bring  "  Shake- 
spear," as  he  calls  him,  on  the  scene  somewhere  with 
Tarlton,  for  the  jester  had  borne  Hamlet  "  on  his  back 
a  thousand  times."  What  does  Mr.  Hazlitt  do  ?  He 
invents  a  journey  to  London  of  the  boy  Shakespeare 
when  of  the  age  of  ten  !  These  are  his  words  :  "I  con- 
ceive myself  perfectly  justified  in  inferring  that  the 
original  introduction  of  the  poet  to  London  took  place 
about  1574,  when  he  was  a  boy  of  ten  "  (p.  21).  Be  it 
remembered  there  is  not  a  scrap  of  evidence  to  corroborate 
this  assertion.  This  was  disappointing,  to  say  the  least 
of  it.  But  worse  follows.  He  takes  it  for  granted 
absolutely,  that  "  Shakespear  receives  a  magnificent 
eulogy  from  Jonson  in  the  Poetaster,  1602  "  (p.  235). 
To  give  a  bare  ipse  dixi  on  a  much-discussed  question 
is  hardly  the  way  to  throw  light  upon  it. 

But  my  purpose  here  is  not  to  criticise  that  which 
disappoints  me  in  this  recent  book,  but  rather  to  quote 
some  remarks  connected  with  the  "  scandal "  which  I 
thoroughly  endorse.     He  is  discussing  (p.  33)  whether 


6g     the   SCANDAL:    INTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

we  are  justified  in  "  constructing  an  autobiography  from 
detached  passages  of  the  works."  Looking  at  such  char- 
acters as  Hamlet  and  the  melancholy  Jaques,  not  to 
speak  of  others,  he  thinks  we  are  justified  in  a  degree. 
He  quotes  the  very  words  of  Hamlet  that  I  have  just 
quoted,  and  adds  :  "  The  question  is,  is  it  not  a  personal 
touch  ?  There  are  other  very  similar  allusions  scattered 
about,  and  the  insistence  is  too  frequent,  too  explicit, 
and  even  too  inconsequent,  where  it  immediately  offers 
itself,  to  permit  more  than  a  single  conclusion.  .  .  .  Scores 
of  them  (such  passages)  might  be  lifted  out  of  their  places 
in  the  text,  and  printed  in  sequence  ;  and  they  would  tell 
one  story — that  of  a  magnificent  career  smitten  by  a 
blight."  This  is  a  novel  and  remarkable  admission  to 
come  from  an  eminently  orthodox  Shakespearian,  espe- 
cially one  who  denies  the  autobiographical  nature  of  the 
Sonnets.  It  sounds  inconsistent  from  him,  but  I  take 
it  per  se  as  a  very  judicious  piece  of  criticism,  but  apphed, 
alas,  to  the  wrong  man.  It  was  Bacon  who  had  the 
"  magnificent  career  "  and  the  "  blight,"  not  Shakespeare. 

I  will  also  quote  what  Mr.  Hazlitt  says  just  before 
this  :  "  The  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  who  we  should 
not  forget  lived  so  long  and  so  constantly,  as  we  should 
now  colloquially  say,  en  gargon,  was  what  the  Goddess 
of  Love  would,  according  to  him,  have  desired  the  object 
of  her  passion  to  be.  Who  shall  say  he  never  proved 
a  Tarquin  to  some  unchronicled  Lucrece  ?  It  was  the 
opulent  and  voluptuous  property  of  his  blood — a  per- 
petual spring  of  warm  and  deep  emotions — which  accom- 
plished for  us  all  the  nobler  and  purer  things  that  we 
so  cherish,  yet  that  was  chargeable,  too,  with  certain 
infirmities  of  our  strange  composite  nature." 

I  am  not  quite  sure  what  infirmities  of  our  nature 
Mr.  Hazlitt  refers  to,  and  of  course  when  he  and  I  speak 
of  the  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis  we  are  referring  to 
very  different  people ;  but  I  certainly  do  not  see  much 
evidence  that  my  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  although 
he  also  lived  so  long  en  gargon  in  the  midst  of  a  plea- 
sure-loving set,  ever  showed  in  his  earlier  years  much 


NO   ACTRESSES   ON   THE   STAGE  6i 

"  infirmity  of  nature  "  in  his  relations  with  the  fair  sex. 
He  and  his  friends  were  undoubtedly  fond  of  going  to 
the  playhouses,  but  they  would  not  be  drawn  to  the 
fair  sex  by  any  personages  they  might  see  on  the  stage. 
The  modem  provocatives  were  not  there.  When  Bacon 
went  to  the  Bankside  or  to  Blackfriars  he  saw  no  ballet- 
dancers,  nor  yet  any  "  leading  ladies "  or  fascinating 
soubrettes.  If  he  took  a  fancy  to  wait  at  the  stage-door 
or  exit  after  the  performance,  he  would  never  have  the 
pleasure  of  praising  an  actress  for  her  attractions  and 
graces  ;  for  the  very  good  reason  there  were  no  actresses 
to  meet.  The  only  semblance  of  a  petticoat  likely  to 
flutter  the  hearts  of  the  jeunesse  dorie  of  those  days,  at 
the  stage-door  or  on  the  boards,  was  bound  to  belong 
to  a  lively  boy  or  to  a  beardless  effeminate-looking  youth. 
At  some  theatres  there  were  only  boy-actors — these  and 
nothing  more — nests  of  little  half-fledged  "  eyases,"  as 
they  are  called  in  Hamlet. 

We  must  take  all  this  into  consideration  when  ven- 
turing to  pronounce  an  opinion  on  the  scandal  of  the 
Sonnets,  and  we  must  not  forget  that  the  poet  passed 
the  greater  part  of  his  middle  life  in  London,  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  temptations  of  the  age. 

There  is  a  puritanical  pamphlet  of  date  1569,  entitled 
The  Children  of  the  Chapel  Stript  and  Whipt.  We  have 
here  perhaps  the  earliest  mention  of  the  boy-actors  or 
young  singing  men  of  the  Chapel  Royal :  "  Plaies  will 
never  be  supprest,  while  her  majesties  unfledged  minions 
flaunt  it  in  silkes  and  sattens."  Again  :  "  Even  in  her 
majesties  chapel  do  these  pretty  upstart  youthes  profane 
the  Lordes  day  by  the  lascivious  writhing  of  their  tender 
limbes,  and  the  gorgeous  decking  of  their  apparell,  in 
feigning  bawdie  fables  gathered  from  the  idolatrous 
heathen  poets." 

I  must  say  that  "  unfledged  minions  "  carries  a  bad 
savour  with  it,  although  I  know  that  the  earlier  meaning 
of  the  word  minion  was  perfectly  harmless.  When  the 
court  circles  had  become  Italianated  the  case  was  rather 
different. 


62     THE   SCANDAL:    INTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

The  Elizabethan  stage  was  the  forum  of  the  people, 
and  their  daily  newspaper  as  well.  That  has  always  to 
be  kept  in  mind.  Chettle's  Kind-Hartes  Dreame  (1592), 
and  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  both  refer  to  the  topical 
jests  and  personal  allusions  which  were  permitted  on 
the  stage,  and  enjoyed  by  the  audience  to  such  a  degree 
that  hardly  any  reputation  was  safe,  whether  aristocrat 
or  plebeian.  The  mendacia  famce  that  Bacon  refers  to 
in  his  published  letters,  were  possibly  stage  lies  and 
scandals  enjoyed  and  appreciated  by  the  many-headed 
vulgar  in  the  penny  and  twopenny  divisions  of  the  theatre. 
The  victims  had  to  wince  and  bear  it,  unless  they  had 
influence  enough  with  the  Star  Chamber  authorities,  or 
with  the  officicd  censors  of  the  theatres,  to  suppress  the 
libellous  parts  of  the  plays.  And  even  then  it  could  only 
be  effectively  done  when  the  play  was  to  be  printed, 
when  permission  could  be  withheld.  It  was  next  to 
impossible  to  stop  the  ill-natured  "  gag  "  that  could  be 
introduced  on  "first  nights,"  and  other  nights  as  well. 
We  have  a  reference  to  this  in  Hamlet,  where  the  boy- 
actors  are  referred  to.  We  hear  that  many  a  man  with 
a  rapier,  that  is  to  say,  a  gentleman,  was  afraid  of  goose- 
quills,  or  the  play- Wrights,  and  was  afraid  to  show  him- 
self among  the  audience.     {Hamlet,  II.  ii.  359.) 

With  reference  to  the  Sonnet-scandal,  F.  T.  Palgrave 
says  :  *  "  We  cannot  understand  how  our  great  and 
gentle  Shakespeare  could  have  submitted  himself  to  such 
passions  ;  we  have  hardly  courage  to  think  that  he  really 
endured  them."  Mr.  Palgrave's  own  view  seems  to  be 
that  "  excessive  affection  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of 
great  genius,"  and  looks  for  Shakespeare's  excuse  in  this 
direction.  He  also  quotes  the  "  sublime  language  "  of 
Plato's  Phcedrus,  where  this  same  wondrous  affection  is 
described  as  "that  possession  and  ecstasy  with  which 
the  Muses  seize  on  a  plastic  and  pure  soul,  awakening 
it  and  hurrying  it  forth  like  a  Bacchanal  in  the  ways 
of  song." 

*  Songs  and  Scntnets  by   William  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Francis  Turner 
Palgrave.     London,  1865. 


BACON'S   CHARACTER  63 

That  young  Francis  Bacon  can  be  satisfactorily  cleared 
and  whitewashed  in  this  high  Platonic  way  is  a  con- 
summation devoutly  to  be  wished. 

Finally,  if  ever  there  was  a  false  judgment  on  any 
man,  Pope  made  it  by  the  last  adjective  in  his  famous 
distich  on  Bacon  : 

"  If  parts  allure  thee,  think  how  Bacon  shin'd  ; 
The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind." 

No  word  could  be  less  appropriate.  One  of  the  most 
distinguishing  marks  of  this  illustrious  man  was  his 
philanthropy,  in  the  Greek  sense  of  the  word,  as  he  used 
and  expressed  it  himself.  As  for  meanness,  he  was  too 
liberal,  too  fond  of  show,  too  careless  of  expense,  for  his 
own  purse  to  bear  it. 

But  I  must  not  dwell  too  long  on  such  points,  tempting 
as  they  are,  for  this  book  is  not  written  either  to  white- 
wash Bacon's  character,  or  to  blacken  it.  However,  I 
must  here  say  that  I  hold  him,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  be 
independent  both  of  eulogy  or  blame.  No  man  had  a 
greater  fall  or  bore  it  better,  and  it  might  be  said  of  him, 
as  Malcolm  said  of  Cawdor  : 

"  Nothing  in  his  life 
Became  him  like  the  leaving  of  it." 

As  to  his  character,  I  accept  Dr.  Abbott's  solution 
of  this  difficult  problem.  He  undertook  political  life  and 
conformed  to  the  practices  of  courtiers,  but  he  was  not 
by  nature  or  intellectual  tastes  fitted  for  it ;  he  knew  it 
was  an  error,  "  that  great  error  that  led  the  rest,"  but  he 
had  to  go  through  with  it,  and  "  hardened  himself  in 
order  to  subsist."  He  never  forgot  his  real  calling,  the 
furtherance  of  the  Kingdom  of  Man  over  Nature,  and 
consequently  could  never  be  or  feel  a  commonplace  self- 
seeker.  Dr.  Abbott  goes  on  to  say  :  "  With  all  his  faults 
he  is  one  who,  the  more  he  is  studied,  bewitches  us  into 
a  reluctance  to  part  from  him  as  from  an  enemy.  He 
has  '  related  to  paper '  many  of  his  worst  defects  ;  but 
neither  his  formal  works  nor  his  most  private  letters 


64     THE   SCANDAL:    INTERNAL   EVIDENCE 

convey  more  than  a  fraction  of  the  singular  charm  with 
which  his  suavity  of  manner  and  gracious  dignity  fasci- 
nated his  contemporaries,  and  riveted  the  affections  of 
some  whom  it  must  have  been  hardest  to  deceive."  Of 
course  when  Dr.  Abbott  refers  thus  to  Bacon  as  com- 
mitting to  paper  "  many  of  his  worst  defects,"  he  does 
not  refer  to  the  Sonnets,  as  he  does  not  include  them 
among  Bacon's  writings ;  and  therefore  we  cannot  have 
his  weighty  opinion  on  the  scandals  which  are  therein 
half-revealed  and  self-confessed.  But  he  speaks  of  the 
"  long  cleansing  week  of  five  years'  expiation,"  which  he 
thinks  "  may  have  chastened  his  moral  character  and 
generated  in  him  an  increased  affection  for  those  few 
friends  who  remained  faithful  to  him."  In  fact,  during 
those  last  five  years,  Bacon  was  more  his  real  self  than 
at  any  other  period  of  his  life,  and  then  we  were  enabled 
(at  least  so  it  seems  to  me)  to  see  the  true  value  and 
genuine  ring  of  a  lofty,  noble,  and  intellectual  nature. 
The  virtue  that  was  in  him  became  more  evident  then, 
for,  as  he  himself  most  wisely  said,  "  Virtue  is  like  pre- 
cious odours,  most  fragrant  when  incensed  or  crushed  "  ; 
and  though  he  is  no  "  professor  "  of  religion  either  in  his 
acknowledged  works  or  in  his  active  life,  or  in  the  Shake- 
speare Plays,  still  there  is  such  a  reverence  for  religion 
generally,  and  such  an  absence  of  bitterness  and  of  the 
vulgar  odium  theologicum,  that  we  feel,  in  spite  of  Lady 
Anne's  complaints  of  his  careless  religious  habits  in  his 
youth,  that  we  have  to  deal  with  a  nature  thoughtful, 
serious,  and  self-searching — nay,  sometimes,  as  in  "  the 
dark  period,"  sceptical  and  pessimistic  to  a  degree,  but 
still  a  mind  that  was  naturaliter  pia  ;  and  if  Shakespeare 
is  to  be  dethroned,  the  English-speaking  world  has  no 
reason  to  be  ashamed  of  the  qualifications  of  the  illus- 
trious man  who  will  occupy  that  lofty  seat.  However 
he  may  have  followed  the  promptings  of  his  nature  in 
the  heyday  of  youth  and  of  his  sportive  blood,  he  finished 
his  course  with  admirable  patience  and  composure,  in 
apparent  peace  with  God  and  man.  If  the  unpleasant 
scandal  really  belongs  to  Bacon,  it  can  only  be,  I  should 


BACON'S   CHARACTER  65 

think,  in  a  very  modified  sense ;  or  if  the  infection  of 
his  nature  really  was  stronger  than  we  have  reason  to 
believe,  we  can  still  hopefully  look  to  the  judgment  on 
it  that  the  great  psychological  experts  of  the  present  day 
(the  only  thorough  judges)  are  prepared  to  give  ;  and  we 
know  that  they  say  such  a  man  is  to  be  pitied  rather  than 
condemned. 


CHAPTER    V 

WAS  THE    AUTHOR  OF   THE    SHAKESPEARE   POEMS    AND 
SONNETS  A  SCHOLAR  ? 

But  let  us  turn  to  a  more  pleasant  subject.  I  have 
already  expressed  my  opinion  that  the  author  of  the 
Sonnets  was  an  aristocrat  by  birth  and  feeling,  and  it 
can  be  shown,  and  has  been  often  shown  by  numerous 
extracts  from  the  Plays,  that  their  author  had  in  special 
a  dislike  to  low,  common  people,  and  to  vulgar  tastes 
and  habits.  I  do  not  think  there  is  need  to  press  this 
point.  But  there  is  another  point  much  disputed,  which 
requires  to  be  settled  definitely  if  possible,  and  that  is  : 

Was  the  author  of  the  Plays  and  Poems  a  scholar  ? 

Much  depends  on  this,  and  I,  for  one,  am  much  sur- 
prised that  it  has  been  so  long  in  dispute  ;  it  seems  such 
a  clear  and  certain  matter.  But  we  must  hear  both  sides. 
First  take  the  Shakespearians  :  they  are  not  all  agreed 
among  themselves  on  this  matter,  but  the  majority  of 
them  assert  that  the  author  of  the  Plays  was  not  a  scholar, 
and  was  not  well  read  in  languages  ancient  or  modem, 
but  that  he  was  a  bom  genius  and  picked  up  sufficient 
general  and  special  knowledge  to  be  able  to  write  the 
Plays,  even  such  masterpieces  as  Hamlet  and  King  Lear, 
and  The  Tempest,  by  the  force  of  his  natural  genius. 
His  mind  was  a  remarkably  receptive  one,  they  say ;  he 
would  easily  get  his  law  from  his  Stratford  experience 
and  his  father's  conversation,  for  the  old  gentleman  was 
obstinately  litigious.  He  would  get  his  Spanish  and 
Itahan  and  French  from  the  natives  of  those  countries 
whom  he  chanced  to  meet  at  the  inns  and  taverns  and 
other  public  places  of  the  metropolis.  He  would  get 
his  knowledge  of  Venice  or  of  Denmark  from  sailors  or 
travellers  who  had  been  there,  and  so  on.     He  was  no 

66 


SCHOLAR  OR   GENIUS?  67 

erudite  scholar  or  linguist,  but  he  had  been  to  an  excellent 
country  grammar-school,  and  that  fact,  along  with  his 
receptivity  of  mind,  and  above  all,  his  heaven-sent  genius, 
would  be  quite  sufficient  to  account  for  Shakespeare 
being  the  author  of  Hamlet,  Othello,  and  the  rest  of  the 
Plays  and  Poems,  without  being  at  all  a  great  scholar  or 
linguist. 

Gerald  Massey  puts  this  view  of  the  majority  of  Shake- 
spearians  as  strongly  as  any  one,  and  as  his  Secret  Drama 
of  Shakespeare' s  Sonnets  (100  copies  for  subscribers  only, 
1888)  is  a  very  uncommon  book,  I  will  reproduce  his 
words  here.  "  To  suppose,"  he  says,  "  that  a  college 
education  and  a  profound  acquaintance  with  the  classics 
are  necessary  to  the  bringing  forth  of  a  Shakespeare  is 
to  miss  the  lesson  of  his  life  (the  italics  are  his),  the 
supreme  lesson  of  all  Uterature  ;  because  in  him  it  was 
triumphantly  demonstrated  once  for  all,  that  these  are 
not  necessities  of  the  most  real  self-developing  education  ; 
that  nature  grows  her  geniuses  like  her  game-birds  and 
finer-flavoured  wildfowl,  by  letting  them  forage  for  their 
own  Hving,  to  find  what  they  most  need.  It  was  learning 
in  the  school  of  life  that  was  the  best  education  for  him, 
and  in  that  school,  as  he  says  of  Cardinal  Wolsey — 

'  From  his  cradle 
He  was  a  scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one.' 

Probably  he  had  not  many  books  to  read ;  but  he  was 
not  made  out  of  books.  When  Nature  wants  a  new  man 
it  is  not  her  way  to  make  him  out  of  old  books.  Books 
are  too  often  used  as  the  means  of  getting  our  thinking 
done  for  us.  Shakespeare  did  his  own.  He  could  trans- 
mute, but  his  genius  preferred  to  work  on  Nature,  and 
drew  his  drama  directly  from  the  life." 

So  the  opinion  of  the  majority  is  that  the  author  of 
Shakespeare's  Plays  and  Poems  was  not  a  bookish  scholar 
at  all,  but  a  born  genius.  However,  the  Shakespeare 
party  is  not  unanimous  on  this  question.  Many  orthodox 
Shakespearians  cannot  get  over  the  difficulty  of  the 
learning  and  linguistic  acquirements,  which  seem  to  them 


68  PROOFS   OF  SCHOLARSHIP 

so  evident  throughout  all  that  Shakespeare  wrote ;  so 
they  hold  the  opposite  view  that  Shakespeare  was  a 
bookish  student,  and  say  in  addition  "  there  is  nothing  to 
prove  that  Shakespeare  did  not  read  languages  with  as 
much  ease  as  Bacon."  *  But  the  great  drawback  for 
these  people  is,  that  they  can  tell  us  nothing  about  Shake- 
speare's books,  and  nothing  about  his  skill  in  languages  ; 
they  cannot  refer  us  to  one  book  of  the  bookish  Shake- 
speare's library,  nor  can  they  show  us  a  single  line  of  his 
writing  in  any  foreign  language,  and  nothing  but  his  own 
name  in  his  own  language  ! 

Now,  when  we  come  to  the  Baconians,  we  find  that 
on  this  question  they  are  all  in  unity,  and  unity  is  strength 
as  a  rule.  They  say,  with  one  accord,  that  the  author 
of  the  Plays  and  Poems  was  a  good  scholar,  an  excellent 
linguist,  especially  in  French  (he  having  lived  in  France 
for  some  years),  and  a  man  of  the  highest  intellectual 
ability  and  most  deep  philosophy,  with  an  unparalleled 
vocabulary.  The  Baconians  say  this,  and  have  said  it 
for  many  years,  and  have  backed  up  their  assertions  with 
an  immense  amount  of  illustration  and  lucid  proof.  I 
need  hardly  say  that  on  this  point  I  thoroughly  agree 
with  them,  and  am  of  the  opinion  that  the  intellectual 
acquirements  of  the  author  of  the  Plays,  on  almost  any 
subject  that  comes  before  him,  can  hardly  be  estimated 
too  highly.  He  touches  nothing  that  he  does  not  adorn 
with  the  elegant  knowledge  of  an  expert,  a  scholar,  and 
a  gentleman.  The  arguments  and  facts  showing  his  well- 
nigh  universal  knowledge,  as  though  he  had  taken  all 
learning  for  his  province,  are  numerous  and  powerful ; 
but  I  shall  not  adduce  them  here,  for  I  wish  to  go  over 
as  little  old  ground  as  possible,  on  this  much-debated 
question.  But  I  will  give  two  instances  of  the  author's 
bookish  scholarship  which  have  not  been  hitherto  much 
noticed,  if  at  all,  and  these  point  strongly  to  the  real 
authorship. 

The  first  turns  on  the  subject  of  the  "  Gardens  of 

*  Cf.  Is  there  any  resemblance  between  Bacon  and  Shakspere  ?  p.  209.     (An 
anonymous  work.) 


THE   GARDENS   OF   ADONIS  69 

Adonis."  We  find  in  i  Henry  VI.,  i.  6,  the  following 
lines  : 

"  Thy  promises  are  like  Adonis'  gardens, 
That  one  day  bloomed  and  fruitful  were  the  next." 

This  allusion  was  so  deep  and  scholarly  that  it  puzzled 
even  the  learned  Alexander  Schmidt  in  his  excellent 
Shakespeare  Lexicon,  where,  s.  v.  Adonis,  his  comment 
is — "  Perhaps  confounded  with  the  garden  of  King 
Alcinous  in  the  Odyssey."  And  another  Shakespearian 
scholar,  Richard  Grant  White,  says  there  is  "no  mention 
of  any  such  garden  in  the  classic  writings  of  Greece  and 
Rome  known  to  scholars."  But  both  these  gentlemen 
stumbled  over  a  comparatively  easy  obstacle.  Liddell 
and  Scott  would  have  removed  it  from  their  path,  if 
they  had  been  consulted.  Adonis'  Gardens  {ol  'ABoomBo^ 
KrjTToi)  were  quick-growing  plants,  seeds,  or  herbs,  put 
in  pots  for  use  at  the  annual  festival  of  Adonis,  and 
hence  used  proverbially  for  anything  pretty,  but  fleeting 
and  unreal.  Plato  makes  Socrates  refer  to  them  in  the 
Phcedrus  (p.  276,  Jowett).     Milton,  too,  speaks  of  them  : 

"  Those  gardens  feigned, 
Or  of  revived  Adonis  or  renowned 
Alcinous."  — Paradise  Lost,  ix.  439. 

Here  a  passage  in  Pliny's  'Natural  History  seems  to  be 
the  original  source  :  "  Antiquitas  nihil  prius  mirata  est 
quam  Hesperidum  hortos,  ac  regum  Adonidos  et  Alcinoi,^^ 
i.e.  the  ancients  admired  no  gardens  more  than  those 
of  the  Hesperides  and  of  the  kings  Adonis  and  Alcinous. 

From  other  references  it  is  gathered  that  in  the  flower- 
pots of  Adonis  were  placed  seeds,  cuttings  of  wheat, 
fennel,  lettuce,  &c.,  all  quickly  drawn  up  by  heat  and  as 
quickly  faded.  They  so  became  an  emblem  of  the  swift 
fading  away  of  the  life  of  mortals — "  It  cometh  forth 
like  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down,"  Erasmus,  in  his  well- 
known  Adagia,  has  a  long  account  of  these  gardens,  with 
all  the  original  Greek  passages  and  a  Latin  translation 
following  them.* 

*  Erasmi  Adagia,  1599,  fol.,  p.  1047. 


70  PROOFS   OF  SCHOLARSHIP 

All  the  above  goes  clearly  to  show  that  the  author 
of  the  play  of  Henry  VI.,  when  he  fitly  compared  promises 
to  the  gardens  of  Adonis,  was  writing  as  a  scholar  would 
write  who  knew  his  Plato  and  Pliny,  or  at  least  knew 
his  Erasmus.  But  from  what  we  know  of  Shakespeare's 
education  and  opportunities,  should  we  be  inclined  to 
give  him  the  credit  of  such  a  neat  and  learned  allusion  ? 
I  think  not.  How  about  Bacon,  we  next  ask ;  would 
he  be  likely  to  mention  Adonis'  gardens  ?  Why,  certainly, 
a  most  likely  man ;  and  he  has  mentioned  them  twice — 
once  in  his  Promus*  806,  where  he  took  the  thing  from 
Erasmus,  and  once  in  his  Lord  Essex's  Device  before  the 
Queen  (i595),t  where  he  speaks  of  "  the  gardens  of  love, 
wherein  he  now  playeth  himself,  are  fresh  to-day  and 
fading  to-morrow." 

My  other  instance  is  taken  from  the  last  two  Sonnets. 
They  are  outside  the  scope  of  the  rest  of  the  Sonnets, 
and  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  "  Lovely  Boy,"  or  the 
"  Dark  Lady."  They  are,  as  Mr.  Wyndham  rightly  calls 
them,  "  exercises  on  a  Renaissance  convention."  They 
seem  to  be  early  essays  of  the  author's  "  pupil  pen,"  for 
they  both  contain  the  same  poetical  fancy,  but  differently 
versified.  They  seem  to  me  to  be  a  very  good  proof 
that  the  author  was  a  scholar,  and  I  have  taken  them 
as  my  second  instance  of  "  scholarship,"  partly  to  correct 
a  mistake  that  every  later  commentator  on  the  Sonnets 
has  made,  even  such  thorough  ones  as  Dowden  and  Tyler. 
They  all  say  that  Herr  Hertzberg,  in  1878,  was  the  first 
to  trace  the  original  source  of  these  Sonnets  to  a  Greek 
Epigram  of  the  Palatine  Anthology.  But  I  can  say  with 
confidence  that  I  knew  their  origin  in  1865  when  I  was 

*  Strange  to  say,  Mrs.  Pott,  who  has  so  carefully  and  laboriously  illus- 
trated Bacon's  Promus  by  parallel  passages  from  Shakespeare's  Plays,  has 
omitted  to  quote  Henry  VI.  as  above,  although  it  is  by  far  the  most  striking 
instance,  and,  as  it  seems  to  me,  one  of  the  best  Baconian  proofs  that  the 
Pronncs  offers  us. 

t  Spedding,  viii.  379  ;  where  the  speeches  written  by  Bacon  for  the  several 
characters  are  given  in  full.  We  only  know  by  internal  evidence,  and  the 
fact  of  a  chance  copy  with  rough  notes  in  Bacon's  handwriting  being  found 
in  the  Gibson  Papers,  that  Bacon  was  the  author.  All  the  contemporary 
references  quite  ignore  Bacon,  and  give  the  credit  to  Essex. 


SONNETS   FROM   THE  GREEK  71 

at  College,  and  that  other  Englishmen  knew  it  as  early 
as  1849,  so  that  it  is  rather  a  shame  that  the  modem 
German  Hertzberg  should  get  all  the  credit.  The  truth 
of  the  matter  is,  that  in  1849  ^^'  Wellesley,  the  learned 
Principal  of  New  Inn  Hall,  Oxford,  published  his  Antho- 
logia  Polyglotta,  which  was  a  choice  selection  of  versions 
in  different  languages  of  some  of  the  best  Epigrams  in 
the  Greek  Anthology.  I  bought  a  copy  of  this  in  1865, 
which  I  have  now,  and  I  well  remember  my  surprise  to 
find  on  page  63  that  William  Shakespeare  was  down  for 
a  version  of  a  very  fine  Epigram,  in  company  with  Grotius, 
Thomas  Gray,  Pagnini,  and  Herder,  this  being  William 
Shakespeare's  sole  appearance  in  the  464  pages  of  learned 
versions  which  the  book  contained.  What  astonished 
me  was  to  find  Shakespeare  among  such  an  array  of 
Greek  scholars,  for  I  knew  even  then  what  Ben  Jonson 
had  said  of  his  Greek  qualifications.  A  little  farther  on, 
at  p.  133,  I  found  "  Lord  Bacon  "  down  for  a  version 
in  company  with  Ausonius,  Maittairi,  Ronsard,  and  some 
old  English  authors  of  1530-1550.  This  did  not  surprise 
me  half  so  much,  although  it  was  my  first  inkling  that 
Bacon  was  a  poet.  I  knew  he  was  a  Trinity  man  and  a 
thorough  student,  and  therefore  not  absolutely  unequal 
to  tackling  a  Greek  Epigram — but  Shakespeare  !  !  Well, 
it  staggered  me  quite  ;  but  I  had  other  problems,  more 
mathematical  than  literary,  to  study  in  those  days,  so 
I  just  found  out  in  what  part  of  Shakespeare's  works 
this  version  from  the  Greek  appeared,  which,  I  remember, 
took  me  some  time  to  discover  (for  Dr.  Wellesley  gave 
no  reference,  and  I  began  to  look  in  the  Plays),  and  after 
that,  for  many  years  thought  no  more  about  it.  But 
now  it  strikes  me  as  a  strong  proof  that  the  author  of 
the  Sonnets  was  "  a  scholar  "  in  a  higher  sense  than  any 
one  has  ever  claimed  that  title  for  Shakespeare.  In  fact,  it 
strongly  suggests  to  me  that  Shakespeare  was  not  a  likely 
person  to  edge  himself  in  just  once  among  such  a  learned 
crew,  and  that  Bacon  was  a  much  more  probable  author, 
especially  as  he  had  tried  another  Greek  Epigram,  and  had 
expanded  it  in  a  similar  way  to  the  one  in  question. 


72  PROOFS  OF  SCHOLARSHIP 

If  necessary,  a  large  number  of  proofs  of  scholarship 
and  book-learning  could  be  adduced  from  the  Plays  and 
Poems  attributed  to  Shakespeare ;  but  I  think  it  would 
only  be  useless  repetition  of  what  has  been  before  in- 
quirers for  many  years.  It  is  not,  I  think,  too  much 
to  say  that  the  author  we  seek  was  a  profound  student 
both  of  books  and  men,  and  one  who  set  before  him  as 
his  aim  and  object  an  almost  universal  scholarship.  He 
was  indeed  a  searcher  after  omne  scihile.  But  we  have 
no  biographical  hints  that  Shakespeare  was  a  man  of 
this  stamp  at  all. 

Moreover,  even  if  we  leave  out  of  all  consideration 
the  numerous  identities  and  literary  parallels  which 
Mrs.  Pott  and  Ignatius  Donnelly  have  so  laboriously 
piled  up,  having  dug  them  out  one  by  one  from  the  rich 
mine  of  the  Plays  ; — if  we  reckon  all  these  as  mere  sconce, 
as  so  much  dross  that  has  no  marketable  value  with 
literary  experts,  even  then  there  remains  in  the  mine  a 
rich  asset  in  the  shape  of  a  most  extensive  and  scholarly 
vocabulary,  such  as  hardly  any  other  mine  ever  possessed. 

Max  Miiller,  an  authority  surely  of  considerable  weight, 
declares  that  "  Shakespeare  displayed  a  greater  variety 
of  expression  than  probably  any  wTiter  in  any  language." 
He  estimates  Milton's  vocabulary  at  8000  words,  Shake- 
speare's at  15,000  words  ;   nearly  double  ! 

Again,  there  is  no  proof  that  Shakespeare  ever  crossed 
the  Channel,  and  he  certainly  had  neither  time  nor  oppor- 
tunity to  become  a  polyglot  student,  or  a  scholar  in 
living  languages.  He  came  up  to  London  early  in  life 
as  a  "  utility  man  "  in  connection  with  Burbage's  stable- 
yard  first,  and  his  theatre  afterwards,  and  if  the  elder 
Burbage  had  found  his  young  fellow-townsman  conning 
foreign  dictionaries  and  grammars  instead  of  doing  his 
proper  work — he  would  have  had  somewhat  to  say. 

That  the  author  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays  was  an 
Italian  scholar  has  been  shown  by  George  Brandes.  He 
finds  imitations  of  Berni's  Orlando  Innamorato  and  other 
Italian  poems  which  must  have  been  used  in  the  original, 
but  his  most  telling  example  is  from  Ariosto,  who  is  used 


KNOWLEDGE   OF   ITALIAN   AND   FRENCH     73 

evidently  when   Othello,   talking    of  the    handkerchief, 

says  : 

"  A  sibyl  that  had  numbered  in  the  world 
The  sun  to  course  two  hundred  compasses, 
In  her  prophetic  fury  sew'd  the  work." 

In  Orlando  Furioso  (canto  46,  stanza  80)  we  read  : 

"  Una  donzella  della  terra  d'llia 
Ch'  avea  il  furor  profetico  congiunto 
Con  studio  di  gran  tempo,  e  con  vigilia 
Lo  fece  di  sua  mano  di  tutto  punto." 

The  agreement  here  cannot  possibly  be  accidental. 
And  what  makes  it  still  more  certain  that  Shakespeare 
had  the  Italian  text  before  him,  is  that  the  words  pro- 
phetic  fury,  which  are  the  same  in  Othello  as  in  the  Italian, 
are  not  to  be  found  in  Harington's  Enghsh  translation, 
the  only  one  then  in  existence.  The  author  must  thus, 
whilst  writing  Othello,  have  been  interested  in  Orlando, 
and  had  Berni's  and  Ariosto's  poems  lying  on  his  table.* 

There  are  several  proofs  that  the  author  was  a  French 
scholar,  but  the  two  best  are  (i)  The  gravedigger's  case 
in  Hamlet  about  "  crowner's  quest  "  law,  taken  from  the 
French  of  Plowden's  Commentaries ;  and  (2)  The  play 
of  Henry  V.,  where  one  entire  scene  and  parts  of  others 
are  in  French.  But  the  French  of  Stratford-on-Avon 
was  not  likely  to  be  much  better  than  the  French  of 
Stratford-atte-Bowe. 

William  Rawley,  Bacon's  first  and  last  chaplain,  and 
his  literary  executor,  said  of  him  :  "I  have  often  ob- 
served, and  so  have  other  men  of  great  account,  that  if 
he  (Bacon)  had  occasion  to  repeat  another  man's  words 
after  him,  he  had  a  use  and  faculty  to  dress  them  in 
better  vestments  and  apparel  than  they  had  before  :  so 
that  the  author  should  find  his  own  speech  much  amended, 
and  yet  the  substance  of  it  still  retained." 

What  is  meant  is  that  Francis  Bacon  was  a  most 
elegant  and  ornamental  paraphraser  of  other  men's 
phraseology,  and  certainly  the  marvellous  alchemy  by 

*  G.  Brandes,  IV.  Shakspeare^  ii.  122. 


74  PROOFS  OF  SCHOLARSHIP 

which  the  baser  metal  of  other  men's  thoughts  and  words 
was  changed  in  the  Shakespeare  Plays  to  ever-shining 
and  imperishable  gold  is  without  a  parallel  in  Hterature. 
Was  it  Bacon  or  Shakespeare  who  did  this  ? 

If  we,  in  this  way,  come  somewhat  to  the  same  point 
of  view  as  Emerson,  and  find  ourselves  unable  to  marry 
Shakespeare  to  his  works,  to  whom  are  the  works  to  be 
irrevocably  joined  ?  Here  we  have  not  much  power  of 
selection,  for  there  is  absolutely  but  one  competitor  in 
the  field.  If  Shakespeare  should  appear  to  us  unequal 
to  that  intellectual  task  of  the  very  highest  order,  which 
meets  the  eye  and  ear  so  vividly  throughout  his  supposed 
works,  then  there  is  but  one  alternative — Bacon  was  the 
man  !  He  is  the  only  one  who  at  all  suits  the  situation  ; 
the  only  key  that  has  the  slightest  pretence  to  fit  the 
lock,  and  open  the  secret  chamber.  That  this  key  does 
fit  has  been  shown  unanswerably  again  and  again,  on 
such  points  as  "  identities  of  expression,"  "  parallel 
passages,"  and  "  similar  mistakes  "  both  in  Bacon  and 
in  Shakespeare ;  but  the  effect  on  the  public  has  been 
most  inadequate,  for  the  reason  that  many  of  the 
Baconians  who  have  brought  so  much  incontrovertible 
evidence  before  the  public  have  either  mixed  it  up  with 
some  unintelligible  or  incredible  cipher  theory,  or,  as  in 
the  case  of  Mrs.  Pott's  edition  of  Bacon's  Promus,  have 
spoilt  the  whole  effect  by  overdoing  the  illustrations,  and 
piling  together  a  heap  of  material  for  the  most  part 
irrelevant  and  worthless. 

I  myself  could  add  a  few  extra  pieces  of  undesigned 
coincidence  between  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  which  I  have 
come  across  quite  casually,  but  they  are  not  worth  the 
trouble  of  writing  down.  Such  evidence,  if  well  chosen, 
is  really  forcible,  but  no  one  seems  convinced  by  it,  and 
every  one  evades  it ;  and  if  both  writers  are  shown  to 
make  the  same  extraordinary  mistakes,  or  the  same 
recondite  remarks,  why  then  the  common  reply  is  :  "  Oh, 
that's  nothing,  no  proof  at  all !  one  clearly  copied  from 
the  other."  Or  else  the  argument  is,  if  the  Promus  dis- 
covery  be   mentioned :     "  Oh,    can't   you   see   how   it 


^    EVIDENCE   FOR   BACON  75 

happened  ?  Bacon  went  to  hear  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and 
jotted  down  his  notes  and  reminders  in  his  Promus  when 
he  got  home."  And  so  on.  I  do  not  say  that  my  few 
pearls  of  coincidence  are  either  fine  or  costly,  but  I  would 
prefer  them  kept  out  of  the  mud,  and  not  trampled  on. 

But  to  return  to  direct  Baconian  evidence.  Quite 
apart  from  literary  and  other  identities,  and  similar 
phraseology — a  kind  of  proof  which,  as  I  allow,  can  be 
much  abused — we  have  abundant  evidence  left,  whereby 
we  can  show,  that  if  Shakespeare  was  not  scholar  enough, 
in  spite  of  his  transcendent  genius,  to  write  the  Plays 
and  Poems,  there  was  undoubtedly  a  man  fully  equipped 
for  the  great  work.     That  man  was  young  Francis  Bacon. 

I  do  not  suppose  that  any  one  living  in  Bacon's  time 
was  able  to  give  a  truer  account  of  the  kind  of  man  Bacon 
was  than  his  lifelong  friend.  Sir  Toby  Matthews.  For- 
tunately we  have  his  account  in  A  Collection  of  Letters 
made  by  S"  Tobie  Mathews,  K' ,  which  was  edited  by 
John  Donne,  son  of  Dr.  Donne,  in  1660.  He  is  praising 
his  native  country  for  possessing  such  four  excellent  and 
rare  minds  as  Cardinal  Wolsey,  Sir  Thomas  More,  Sir 
Phihp  Sidney,  and  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  and  he  thinks 
England  can  "  pose  any  other  Nation  of  Europe  "  in 
this  respect.  He  reviews  their  great  abilities,  and  coming 
to  Bacon  he  says  :  "  The  fourth  was  a  Creature  of  in- 
comparable Abilities  of  Mind,  of  a  sharp  and  catching 
Apprehension,  large  and  faithful!  Memory,  plentifull  and 
sprouting  Invention,  deep  and  solid  Judgment,  for  as 
much  as  might  concern  the  understanding  part.  A  man 
so  rare  in  knowledge  of  so  many  severall  kinds,  endued 
with  the  faciUty  and  felicity  of  expressing  it  all,  in  so 
elegant,  significant,  so  abundant,  and  yet  so  choise  and 
ravishing  a  way  of  words,  of  metaphors,  and  allusions, 
as,  perhaps,  the  World  hath  not  seen,  since  it  was  a 
World.  I  know,  this  may  seem  a  great  Hyperbole,  and 
strange  kind  of  riotous  excesse  of  speech  ;  but  the  best 
means  of  putting  me  to  shame,  will  be  for  you  (the  reader) 
to  place  any  other  man  of  yours,  by  this  of  mine." 

To  feel  the  full  force  of  such  remarks  as  these,  we 


76  EVIDENCE  FOR   BACON 

must  remember  that  if  any  man  at  that  time  really  knew 
the  literary  secret,  it  was  assuredly  Sir  Toby.  Bacon 
used  to  write  to  him  and  submit  his  compositions  to 
his  friend's  criticism,  which  he  valued  highly.  "  I  have 
sent  you,"  Bacon  tells  Sir  Toby  in  one  letter,  "  some 
copies  of  my  Book  of  the  Advancement,  which  you  desired, 
and  a  little  Work  of  my  Recreation,  which  you  desired 
not."  In  another  letter  Bacon  writes  :  "  And  I  must 
confesse  my  desire  to  be  that  my  Writings  should  not 
court  the  present  time ;  "  and  in  another  he  confesses 
that  a  certain  past  "  businesse  "  is  not  quite  clear  to  his 
memory,  and  gives  this  reason — "  my  head  being  then 
wholly  employed  about  Invention." 

Do  not  all  these  facts  seem  to  point  out  the  very  man 
who  could  write  the  wonderful  Plays  ;  the  very  kind  of 
head  to  do  the  work  and  not  to  speak  of  it,  but  to  leave 
its  fame  and  good  effects  to  a  later  time  ?  And  as  all 
who  are  interested  in  this  literary  problem  well  know, 
it  was  Sir  Toby  who,  having  received  some  favour  or 
present  from  Francis  Bacon  about  the  time  that  the  first 
folio  was  being  brought  out,  wrote  back  that  enigmatical 
reply,  that  the  greatest  wit  he  knew  across  the  Channel 
was  "  of  the  same  name  as  his  Lordship,  though  he  went 
by  another."  This  used  to  be  thought  a  Baconian  proof, 
a  gem  of  the  first  water,  until  some  Shakespearian 
suggested  that  the  greatest  wit  in  question  was  Southwell 
the  Jesuit,  whose  proper  name  was  Bacon,  and  that  the 
gem  of  the  first  water  was  in  fact  a  worthless  paste 
imitation.  But  what  made  Sir  Toby  mention  such  a 
circumstance  at  all — what  led  up  to  it  ?  I  think  the 
gem  is  really  as  valuable  as  ever,  although  I  believe 
Southwell  was  the  man  referred  to.  For  surely  there 
must  have  been  talk  of  some  double  authorship,  or  some 
author  concealed  by  an  alias,  or  we  should  not  have  had 
such  a  postscript  at  all. 

Having  thus  heard  one  good  witness  speak  to  the 
fitness  of  Bacon,  let  us  hear,  by  way  of  contrast,  one  good 
witness  bear  evidence  as  to  the  unfitness  of  Shakespeare 
to  fulfil  such  remarkable  qualifications  as  are  everywhere 


THE   EVIDENCE   OF   DIALECT  77 

noticeable  in  the  immortal  works,  especially  in  the  early 
plays  and  poems,  mostly  written  when  Shakespeare  had 
not  long  left  the  wilds  of  Warwickshire. 

A  strong  argument  against  Shakespeare's  authorship 
can  be  drawn  from  "  the  first  heir  of  "  his  "  invention," 
the  Venus  and  Adonis.  He  could  not  have  left  home 
very  long  when  he  began  to  write  this  successful  and 
popular  poem  ;  possibly  he  was  ostler  and  odd-man  at 
James  Burbage's  livery-stables  at  Smithfield  when  he 
thought  out  the  first  few  lines.  Surely,  then,  we  may 
expect  some  Warwickshire  expressions  in  it.  Country 
dialect  is  not  easily  shaken  off  all  at  once.  Now,  a  well- 
known  American,  Appleton  Morgan,  has  devoted  much 
labour  to  tabulating  the  Plays  and  Poems  with  a  view 
to  find  the  percentage  of  provincialisms  (especially 
Warwick  ones)  in  each.  The  dialect  column  for  Venus 
and  Adonis  was  absolutely  blank  !  not  a  single  Warwick- 
shire word  to  be  found  in  the  poem,  unless  urchin  for 
hedgehog  could  be  counted,  but  urchin  was  common  to 
many  counties  besides  Warwick.  And  then,  in  spite  of 
the  risky  subject  of  the  love  of  Venus  for  the  bashful 
youth,  the  whole  poem  is  written  with  such  an  air  of 
aristocratic  grace,  culture,  and  refinement,  that  could 
hardly  be  attributed  to  the  young  man  William  Shake- 
speare. He  could  hardly  have  seen  much  fashionable 
society  or  elegant  court  ladies  yet.  He  was  but  an 
honest,  facetious  actor  and  stage  factotum  who  had  not 
written  any  popular  poetry  so  far,  nor  had  his  name  been 
at  all  in  the  mouths  of  men. 

He  had  been  promoted,  no  doubt,  very  soon,  as  I 
hope  to  show,  from  the  stable-yard  of  John  Burbage  to 
the  inside  of  Burbage's  theatre,  and  was  working  his  way 
up,  but  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  address  Southampton 
or  any  other  young  nobleman  as  "  my  lovely  boy,"  either 
in  public  or  in  private. 

Neither  was  he  qualified  (we  believe)  to  read  that 
voluminous  and  rather  crabbed  French  writer,  Saluste 
du  Bartas,  in  his  original  language.  But  the  celebrated 
picture  of  the  horse  in  Venus  and  Adonis  is  borrowed 


78  A  PARADOX   EXPLAINED 

word  for  word  from  Du  Bartas,  that  well-known  French 
poet,  afterwards  in  Milton's  days  so  popular  in  Sylvester's 
translation.  But  there  was  no  translation  for  more  than 
five  years  after  Venus  and  Adonis  appeared  ! 

Therefore  the  author  must  have  read  the  work  in  its 
French  original.  Bacon  could  do  this  easily,  as  a  perfect 
French  scholar ;  but  whether  the  Stratford  man  could 
is  very  doubtful.* 

Some  Shakespearians  no  doubt  will  argue  that  when 
we  attempt  to  give  the  authorship  of  the  sensuous  Venus 
and  Adonis  to  the  philosophic  and  studious  Bacon  we  are 
open  to  the  very  same  objection  that  was  so  forcible 
against  the  Shakespearian  authorship  of  Hamlet  and  Lear 
and  Love's  Labour^ s  Lost — the  objection,  I  mean,  that  "  the 
man  cannot  be  married  to  his  muse,"  that  his  life  and 
surroundings  effectually  forbid  the  banns.  I  admit  the 
objection  in  Shakespeare's  case  but  not  in  Bacon's. 
Bacon  was  a  friend  and  close  associate  of  Essex,  South- 
ampton, Perez,  and  many  others  of  the  Elizabethan 
highest  social  grade — and  that  grade  abounded  with  the 
wayward  children  of  the  Renaissance,  who  thoroughly 
accepted  one  of  the  principal  new  doctrines  floating  in 
that  new  atmosphere,  the  Rehabilitation  of  the  Flesh. 
Neither  Essex,  nor  Southampton  nor  Raleigh  would 
hesitate  one  moment  about  seducing  a  maid  of  honour, 
or  carrying  on  an  intrigue  with  two  or  three  ladies  at  the 
same  time,  if  the  chance  occurred.  The  state  of  feeling 
in  the  high  and  cultured  circles  of  renascent  Italy  in  the 
preceding  generation  or  two  had  its  counterpart  in  the 
high  and  cultured  circles  of  Elizabethan  England, 
especially  among  those  who  had  travelled  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  their  island  home  and  had  seen  many 
men,  cities,  and  manners. 

A  reversion  to  the  unrestrained  and  joyous  life 
of  the  natural  man — as  he  was  so  finely  depicted  in 
pagan  art  and  classic  story — must  have  been  evident 
to  all  travellers.  The  very  pictures  and  statues,  the 
glories  of  the  new  Italian  art,  told  the  tale  to  the  eyes 

*  Cf.  Quarterly  Review,  April  1894. 


A   PARADOX   EXPLAINED  79 

in  a  livelier  and  more  vivid  manner  than  could  ever  reach 
the  ears. 

Both  the  Bacon  brothers  were  intimately  connected 
with  men  of  this  class.  Lady  Anne  Bacon  often  wrote  to 
her  sons  warning  them  against  the  character  and  conduct 
of  their  aristocratic  associates.  She  mentions  in  one  letter 
"  thy  EarPs  unchaste  manner  of  life."  This  Earl  was 
Essex,  who  had  been  a  married  man  for  years.  Indeed 
the  names  of  at  least  four  ladies  of  the  court  were  coupled 
with  his  in  a  rather  compromising  manner  :  (i)  Ehzabeth 
Southwell,  who  bore  to  him  a  son,  described  in  a  law  paper 
at  the  S.  P.  O.  as  "  Walter  Devereux,  the  base  reputed 
son  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Essex,  begotten  on  the  body  of 
Elizabeth  Southwell "  ;  (2)  Lady  Mary  Howard  ;  (3) 
Mistress  Russell,  who  was  Bacon's  cousin;  and  (4)  the 
"  fairest  Brydges."  This  last  was  a  peculiarly  dis- 
graceful amour,  for  Lady  Essex,  his  wife,  was  with  child 
at  the  time,  and  we  hear  in  a  letter,  dated  nth  Feb.  1598, 
that  "it  is  spied  out  by  some  that  my  Lord  of  Essex  is 
again  fallen  in  love  with  his  fairest  B.  It  cannot  chuse 
but  come  to  her  Majesty's  ears,  and  then  he  is  undone." 
Apparently  the  intrigues  did  come  to  the  Queen's  ears,  for 
her  wrathful  Majesty  *'  treated  her  and  Mistress  Russell 
with  words  and  blows  of  anger:  they  were  put  out 
of  the  Coffer  Chamber  and  took  refuge  in  Lady  Stafford's 
house  for  three  nights."  However,  they  promised  to  be 
more  careful  and  were  restored  to  their  former  position. 
The  excuse  given  for  the  royal  displeasure  was  that 
these  young  damsels  had  neglected  their  duties,  had 
taken  physic,  and  had  one  day  gone  through  the  privy 
galleries  to  see  the  gentlemen  play  ballon.  Lady 
Mary  Howard's  punishment  was  rather  a  spiteful  piece 
of  temper  on  the  Queen's  part,  for  Lady  Mary  had  a 
velvet  dress  with  a  rich  border,  powdered  with  gold  and 
pearl,  which  was  probably  intended,  among  other  pur- 
poses, to  help  to  captivate  the  fascinating  Earl.  Anyhow 
it  roused  the  envy  of  the  Queen  and  others.  The  Queen 
one  day  sent  for  this  dress  privately,  put  it  on,  and  came 
out  among  the  ladies,  and  being  much  taller  than  Lady 


8o  THE   QUEEN'S   SPITE 

Mary,  it  was  too  short  for  the  Queen,  and  was  therefore 
quite  unbecoming.  The  Queen  went  round  asking  the 
ladies  whether  it  was  not  short  and  unbecoming,  to  which 
they  agreed,  and  when  the  question  came  to  be  made  by 
the  Queen  to  the  real  owner  of  the  dress,  she  too  was 
forced  to  agree  with  what  the  others  had  said.  "  Why 
then,"  said  the  Queen,  "  if  it  become  not  me  as  being  too 
short,  I  am  minded  it  shall  never  become  thee  as  being  too 
fine,  so  it  fitteth  neither  well."  So  the  dress  was  put  away 
and  never  worn  till  after  the  Queen's  death.  So  the 
Queen  effectually  prevented  that  dress  captivating  the 
Earl. 


CHAPTER    VI 

BEN   JONSON  AND   BACON 

The  next  piece  of  evidence  I  shall  bring  forward  is,  to  a 
great  extent,  new  and  unnoticed,  but,  if  I  may  venture  to 
say  so,  by  no  means  imimportant.  It  has  mainly  to  do 
with  Ben  Jonson  and  his  early  attitude  towards  Shake- 
speare and  Bacon,  especially  during  the  "  War  of  the 
Theatres,"  or  the  Poetomachia  as  it  is  sometimes  called, 
which  lasted  two  or  three  years  from  1600  onwards. 

I  am  afraid  the  evidence  cannot  be  fully  appreciated 
without  a  careful  reading  of  two  or  three  of  Ben  Jonson's 
plays,  right  through  from  prologue  to  epilogue.  This  is 
rather  too  much  to  ask  in  these  days,  when  writing  is  so 
often  done  currente  calamo,  without  stopping  to  think, 
and  reading  is  so  often  got  through  currente  oculo,  by  just 
glancing  at  the  pages  as  we  turn  them  over. 

However,  after  a  few  preliminary  remarks  I  will 
endeavour  to  extract  some  of  the  more  important  allusions 
from  their  context,  and  thus  save  the  hasty  reader  the 
trouble  of  reaching  down  another  book  from  his  shelves. 

A  great  deal  depends  on  getting  a  proper  appreciation 
of  Ben  Jonson's  treatment  of  Shakespeare  and  Bacon — 
for  he  knew  them  both  well,  and  also  knew  Pembroke 
more  intimately  than  we  have  any  reason  to  believe  that 
Shakespeare  did.  In  Ben's  plays  there  are  such  evident 
satirical  comments  on  actors  having  arms  from  Heralds' 
College  and  becoming  "  gentlemen  bom,"  that  we  cannot 
avoid  the  conclusion  that  Ben  Jonson  is  aiming  at  and 
satirising  Shakespeare.  And  there  are  equally  strong 
adverse  allusions  pointing  against  Bacon.  I  know  that 
Gifford,  and  many  critics  more  recent  than  he,  would 
not  allow  either  a  word  or  a  proof  connected  with  Jonson's 

8x  p 


82  BEN   JONSON   AND   BACON 

rancour  or  malignity  against  Shakespeare.  They  were 
both  sworn  friends  and  boon  companions  all  their  lives, 
so  that  school  of  criticism  declared.  My  own  views  may 
be  gathered  from  the  present  chapter. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  a  short,  yet  clear,  account  of  this 
War  of  the  Theatres,  which  lasted  quite  four  years  (1598-- 
1603),  and  involved  in  it  Ben  Jonson,  Marston,  Dekker, 
and  in  a  certain  less  degree,  Shakespeare  and  Bacon. 
But  it  is  important  to  have  a  general  idea  of  its  course. 
It  began,  I  beheve,  with  Marston  in  1598  or  1599,  who 
was  merciless  in  his  Satires,  and  railed  so  universally  that 
many  libels  might  be  accepted  without  being  really  in- 
tended. Jonson,  however,  thought  Marston  had  attacked 
him  for  youthful  indulgence  in  the  sports  of  Venus,  and 
henceforth  Jonson  brought  his  enemies  and  slanderers, 
as  he  thought  them,  continually  into  his  plays,  which 
were  full  now  of  concealed  personalities  and  bitter  re- 
marks, Jonson  himself  figuring  in  them  too  in  the  various 
characters  of  Asper,  Crites,  Horace.  Marston  was  one 
of  the  first  to  receive  Ben's  onslaught.  In  Cynthia's 
Revels  (1600)  Jonson  attacked  both  Marston  and  Dekker 
as  Anaides  and  Hedon  ;  and  again,  next  year,  Jonson 
laid  about  him  vigorously  all  round  as  Horace  in  the 
Poetaster,  which  we  consider  more  closely  elsewhere. 
About  now  a  useful  piece  of  evidence  on  this  War  of  the 
Theatres  comes  to  us  from  The  Returne  from  Parnassus, 
a  play  acted  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  when  the 
War  was  almost  at  its  height.  In  Act  IV.,  sc.  5,  Burbage 
and  Kemp,  Shakespeare's  fellow-actors,  are  brought  on 
the  scene  and  discuss  theatrical  and  other  matters, 
especially  the  talents  of  the  "  University  pens."  Kemp 
does  not  think  much  of  these  persons.  "  Why,"  says 
he,  "  here's  our  feUow  Shakespeare  puts  them  aU  downe, 
I  (i.e.  Aye)  and  Ben  Jonson  too.  O  that  Ben  Jonson  is  a 
pestilent  fellow ;  he  brought  up  Horace  giving  the  Poets  a 
pill,  but  our  fellow  Shakespeare  hath  given  him  a  Purge 
that  made  him  beray  his  credit."  So  Jonson  had  a  nasty 
reply  from  Shakespeare  according  to  this  undeniably 
good    Cambridge    authority.    We    know    from    other 


THE   POETOMACHIA  83 

sources  that  Ben  had  the  Satiromastix  written  against 
his  Poetaster,  but  this  was  clearly  not  by  Shakespeare  but 
by  Dekker ;  so  we  must  look  for  Shakespeare's  Purge 
somewhere  else.  Where  shall  we  find  it  ?  I  think,  for 
several  reasons,  we  shall  find  that  strange  play  Troilus 
and  Cressida  to  be  the  Purge  meant.  It  was  "  our 
fellow  Shakespeare's,"  for  it  was  acted  at  his  theatre  by 
his  company,  and  he  no  doubt  took  a  part  and  did  a  good 
business  with  gag.  It  was  also  against  Jonson,  who  was 
satirised  in  a  not  very  cleanly  manner  under  the  character 
of  Ajax  (  =  a  jakes),  who  went  running  about  the  field  of 
battle  asking  for  himself.  This  was  a  Purge  indeed.  It 
seems  to  have  been  put  together  by  Shakespeare,  the 
play-broker,  in  a  more  miscellaneous  manner  than  was 
usual  with  him,  for  it  may  have  been  founded  on  an 
earlier  play  of  the  same  title  by  Dekker  and  Chettle, 
which  Henslowe's  Diary  refers  to  May  1599;  and  as  it 
appears  in  the  folio  of  1623  there  may  be  pieces  of  Bacon 
in  it  and  touches  of  Shakespeare  as  well,  although  the 
folio  editors  seemed  to  look  askance  at  one  at  least  of  the 
earlier  quartos.  But  whatever  else  it  was,  Troilus  and 
Cressida  was  undoubtedly  a  manifesto  of  the  New 
Romantic  school  against  the  Jonsonian  Classical  school 
of  Ben  and  his  "  tribe,"  and  was  written  as  a  reply  to  the 
Poetaster,  for  the  Prologue  to  Troilus  begins  with  an 
armed  Prologue  entering  upon  the  scene,  just  as  there 
was  an  armed  Prologue  in  the  Poetaster,  a  circumstance 
unusual,  and  the  subject  of  some  remarks  at  the  time. 
So  we  may  opine  that  Bacon,  Shakespeare,  Dekker,  and 
Chettle  all  stood  together  to  give  the  Classical  school  of 
Jonson,  Chapman,  and  the  rest  a  good  blow  in  this  very 
strange  composite  play.  Marston  would  be  with  Jonson's 
tribe  in  this  matter,  for  Marston  was  steeped  in  the 
classic  satirists  and  rather  despised  the  new  romantic 
and  pathetic  tragedies  that  were  rising  in  the  popular 
favour.  Sometimes  Marston  and  Jonson  were  sworn 
foes,  and  then  next  year  or  sooner  they  would  be  fulsomely  ^ 
lauding  each  other's  plays  ;  and  at  different  times  in 
Jonson's  career  the  same  thing  happened  to  him  both 


84  BEN  JONSON   AND   BACON 

with  Bacon  and  Shakespeare.  At  least  that  is  my  beUef. 
It  was  a  very  pecuHar  characteristic  of  "  rugged  Ben," 
for  Dekker,  who  ought  to  know,  wrote  thus  of  him  : 
"  'Tis  thy  fashion  to  flirt  ink  in  every  man's  face ;  and 
then  crawle  into  his  bosome."  This  remark  was  in  the 
Satiromastix  of  1601.  It  was  some  long  time  after  this 
that  Jonson  crawled  into  Bacon's  bosom,  but  he  did 
eventually,  and  apparently  into  Shakespeare's  too,  if  he 
and  Drayton  really  had  that  last  carouse  with  Shake- 
speare at  Stratford  in  161 6. 

I  have  dwelt  longer  than  I  should  on  this  War  of  the 
Poets,  but  the  better  knowledge  we  have  of  these  matters, 
the  more  likely  we  are  to  take  a  correct  view  of  the  Bacon- 
Shakespeare  controversy,  which  cannot,  and  should  not, 
be  dismissed  with  such  words  as,  "  Ridiculous  !  "  *'  Im- 
possible !  "  "  Irrational !  " 

Ben  Jonson  published  the  Silent  Woman  in  1609,  and 
in  Sir  John  Daw  we  seem  to  see  Bacon  drawn  to  the  life 
as  near  as  "  rare  old  Ben  "  dared  to  do  it. 

Whether  the  fact  of  the  Shakespeare  Sonnets  being 
published  about  this  time  had  anything  to  do  with  these 
daring  public  allusions,  I  know  not,  but  I  cannot  help 
seeing  several  artfully  concealed  allusions  to  the  events 
of  the  Sonnets  and  to  the  male  love  therein  dwelt  upon. 
Anyhow,  the  first  seventeen  Sonnets  are  most  hkely  meant 
when  Sir  John  Daw's  "  Ballad  of  procreation  "  is  jeered 
at.  It  is  also  said  of  Sir  John  Daw  that  he  was  not  a 
professed  poet,  for  he  had  more  caution  than  to  be  that ; 
"  he  'ill  not  hinder  his  own  rising  in  the  state  so  much," 
says  one  of  the  characters.  Surely  this  looks  like  a  hit 
for  Bacon.  It  will  be  further  considered  when  we  come 
to  the  Sonnets.  Indeed,  that  Sir  John  Daw  =  Bacon  will 
be  proved  conclusively. 

Ben  Jonson's  allusions  in  the  Poetaster  are  a  puzzle  to 
critics.  However,  with  much  diffidence,  I  will  put,  as 
succinctly  as  possible,  what  appears  to  be  a  likely  expla- 
nation of  the  relative  positions  of  some  of  the  combatants 
in  the  Poetomachia,  or  War  of  the  Player-poets.  It  is  a 
most  important  and  neglected  part  of  the  Bacon-Shake- 


THE   POETOMACHIA  85 

speare  question,  and  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  Dekker's 
Satiromastix,  Marston's  Satires,  and  Shakespeare's  Troilus 
and  Cressida,  all  help  to  throw  light  on  the  true  author  of 
Shakespeare's  Plays  ;  for  although  Bacon's  name  does 
not  appear  once  in  the  conflict,  nor  have  the  Baconians 
(with  one  exception)  tried  to  bring  him  into  the  fight  at 
all,  still  I  believe  he  is  there  in  an  Ovidian  domino,  and 
that  Ben  Jonson  knew  the  Great  Secret  as  early  as  1600-1, 
or  even  before  that  date. 

What  I  mean  is  that  in  the  Poetaster  we  have  Francis 
Bacon  depicted  in  a  vein  of  Aristophanic  banter  by  Ben 
Jonson,  and  attacked  with  jealous  and  bitter  humour  in 
the  character  of  Ovid  junior.  Nay  more — and  this  is 
evidence  hitherto  altogether  unnoticed — Ben  Jonson 
seems  to  hint  at  the  scandal  connected  with  Bacon's 
character,  as  well  as  to  recognise  the  rising  lawyer  and 
political  aspirant  as  the  gay  young  Ovid  of  the  Shake- 
speare Poems,  and  the  provider  of  plays  "  at  request  " 
though  "  not  known  unto  the  open  stage."  He  also  aims 
at  a  play-writer  that  was  mixed  up  with  the  suspicious 
and  treasonable  play  Richard  II.,  and  was  banished  from 
court  for  the  share  he  was  supposed  to  have  in  it ;  and 
who  could  that  be  but  Bacon  ? 

Moreover,  it  appears  that  the  Poetaster  was  threatened 
with  a  prosecution  by  some  persons  of  rank  and  position, 
and  part  was  suppressed.  Upon  this  I  will  only  remark 
now,  that  if  this  was  only  a  paltry  squabble  between 
literary  hacks  and  play-actors,  who  would  care  to  go  to 
the  Star  Chamber  or  King's  Bench  about  it  ?  If,  how- 
ever. Bacon  or  his  noble  friends  were  involved  in  the 
scandalous  satire  it  would  be  a  different  matter  al- 
together. 

The  Poetaster  has  exercised  the  wits  of  many  search- 
ing critics,  but  no  one,  as  far  as  I  know,  except  the 
anonjmious  author  of  Shakespeare-Bacon,  an  Essay,  1899, 
has  attempted  to  connect  the  play  with  the  rising  lawyer. 

As  I  have  made  several  additions  to  his  argument,  I 
will  proceed  to  give  the  main  points  of  the  Poetaster,  so 
far  as  it  seems  to  aim  at  Francis  Bacon. 


86  BEN    JONSON   AND   BACON 

The  curtain  rises  with  Ovid  junior  discovered  in  his 
study  putting  the  finishing  touch  to  some  verses  he  has 
been  composing.  This  young  Ovid  is  a  lawyer  by  pro- 
fession, but  has  no  "  stomach  "  for  law,  and  he  is  heard 
reciting  with  evident  pleasure  the  last  two  lines  of  his 

poem  : 

"  Then  when  this  body  falls  in  funeral  fire 
My  name  shall  live  and  my  best  part  aspire"  ; 

to  which  he  adds  self-complacently,  "  It  shall  go  so." 
To  him  then  enters  Luscus,  and  says  hurriedly,  when  he 
sees  what  young  Ovid  is  occupied  with,  "  Young  master, 
Master  Ovid,  do  you  hear  ?  Away  with  your  songs  and 
sonnets  *  .  .  .  get  a  law  book  in  your  hand."  He  tells 
him  that  his  father,  Ovid  senior,  will  be  coming  presently, 
and  ends  with  a  tragic  warning  that  "  this  villainous 
poetry  will  imdo  you  yet,  by  the  welkin."  f  Ovid's 
reply  is,  "  What,  hast  thou  buskins  on,  Luscus,  that  thou 
swearest  so  tragically  and  high  ?  "  Ovid  senior  is  possibly 
Lord  Burghley,  to  whom  Bacon  looked  for  preferment 
when  he  had  lost  his  own  father ;  and  we  know  that  Lord 
Burghley  was  much  against  time  being  wasted  over  sonnets 
and  plays  and  such  frivolities,  and  thought  that  Bacon 
should  look  to  the  law  steadily  for  his  rise  in  life.  Luscus 
entreats  young  Ovid  again  and  again  to  give  up  his  verses, 
and  not  to  be  "  Castalian  mad."  J  But  finding  it  in  vain, 
he  finally  says  :   "  God  be  with  you,  sir,  I'll  leave  you  to 

*  Sonnets  !    This  was  not  Ovid's  line  of  poetry. 

t  This  fanciful  and  unusual  oath,  "  by  the  welkin,"  and  the  succeeding 
question,  "What,  hast  thou  buskins  on,  Luscus?"  both,  I  suggest,  emphasise 
an  allusion  to  Shakespeare  the  Player,  whom  Luscus  seems  to  represent  both 
here  and  elsewhere.  It  is  in  the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  {^.  iii.  loi),  and 
only  there,  that  we  find  a  similar  oath.  Pistol  says,  "  Wilt  thou  revenge  ? " 
Nym  replies,  "By  the  welkin  and  her  star."  So  I  certainly  think  Ben  is 
here  getting  a  joke  against  Shakespeare  the  Player  and  his  way  of  bombasting 
out  blank  verse  with  the  metaphorical  buskins  on,  and  is  here  giving  us  one 
of  the  "  locks  of  wool "  or  "  shreds "  which  the  Player  contributed  to  the 
Baconian  fleece. 

To  Poet-ape. 

Fool !  as  if  half  eyes  will  not  know  a  fleece 

From  locks  of  wool,  or  shreds  from  the  whole  piece, 

X  Referring  probably  to  Venus  and  Adonis^  which  had  the  Castalian 
spring  in  its  motto  from  Ovid  :   *^ Pocula  Castahd plena  ministret  aqud."' 


OVID  JUNIOR  87 

your  poetical  fancies  and  furies.  I'll  not  be  guilty,  I. 
(Exit  Luscus.)  "  Young  Ovid  thus  left  to  himself  recites 
his  poem,  which  turns  out  to  be  that  very  part  of  the 
Elegies  of  Ovid  from  which  the  motto  prefixed  to  Venus 
and  Adonis  had  been  taken  by  the  supposed  Shakespeare. 
Just  as  Ovid  finishes  there  come  upon  the  scene  Ovid 
senior,  Luscus,  Tucca  (a  braggadocio  of  the  army),  and 
Lupus.  Ovid's  father,  seizing  the  situation  at  once, 
attacks  : 

Is  this  the  scope  and  aim  of  thy  studies  ?  Verses  !  Poetry  ! 
Ovid  whom  I  thought  to  see  the  pleader,  become  Ovid  the  play- 
maker  ? 

Ovidjun.  No,  sir. 

Ovid  Sen.  Yes,  sir  ;  I  hear  of  a  tragedy  of  yours  coming  forth  for 
the  common  players  there,  called  Medea. 

Luscus  here  interposes  a  remark  that  he  did  "  augur 
all  this  to  him  (young  Ovid)  beforehand,"  whereon  Tucca 
turns  on  him  with  angry  contempt,  and  with  other  abuse 
tells  Luscus  (Shakespeare  the  actor  ?)  to  "  talk  to  tapsters 
and  ostlers,  you  slave,  they  are  in  your  element,  go  : 
here  be  the  emperor's  captains,  you  ragamuffin  rascal, 
and  not  your  comrades.     {Exit  Luscus.)  " 

On  this  I  would  only  say  that  if  Shakespeare  came 
up  from  Stratford  and  first  obtained  work  in  connection 
with  the  stables  of  old  Burbage's  inn,  and  afterwards 
rose  to  be  an  actor,  then  Ben  Jonson  would  be  the  very 
one  to  know  it  and  make  a  point  of  it. 

Even  when  Luscus  has  departed,  Tucca  continues  his 
venomous  remarks  :  "  They  forget  they  are  in  the  statute, 
the  rascals  ;  they  are  blazoned  there ;  there  they  are 
tricked,  they  and  their  pedigrees ;  they  need  no  other 
heralds,  I  wiss."  This  is  surely  another  of  the  many 
thrusts  at  the  Shakespeares  aspiring  for  a  grant  of  arms 
from  the  Heralds'  College.  Presently  young  Ovid  tries 
to  excuse  himself  thus  : 

Ovid  Jun.  They  wrong  me,  sir,  and  do  abuse  you  more 
That  blow  your  ears  with  these  untrue  reports. 
I  am  not  known  unto  the  open  stage, 
Nor  do  I  traffic  in  their  theatres ; 


88  BEN  JONSON   AND   BACON 

Indeed,  I  do  acknowledge,  at  request 
Of  some  near  friends,  and  honourable  Romans, 
I  have  begun  a  poem  of  that  nature. 
Ovid  Sen.  You  have,  sir,  a  poem  !  and  where  is  it?    That's  the 
law  you  study. 

Ovid  Jun.  Cornelius  Callus  borrowed  it  to  read. 
Ovid  Sen.  Cornelius  Callus  !  there's  another  gallant  too  hath 
drunk  of  the  same  poison,  and  Tibullus  and  Propertius.  But  these 
are  gentlemen  of  means  and  revenues  now.  Thou  art  a  younger 
brother,  and  hast  nothing  but  thy  bare  exhibition  ;  which  I  protest 
shall  be  bare  indeed,  if  thou  forsake  not  these  unprofitable  by-courses. 
Name  me  a  profest  poet  that  his  poetry  did  ever  so  much  as  afford 
him  a  competency. 

I  suggest  that  Ben  Jonson  aims  at  Francis  Bacon  in 
all  the  above  allusions.  Bacon  was  a  younger  hr other ^ 
disliked  his  profession  of  the  law,  and  (if  my  supposition 
is  correct)  took  to  poetry  instead,  and,  what  was  con- 
sidered much  worse,  wrote  for  the  public  theatres.  His 
intimates  were  wealthy  gallants,  Southampton,  Pembroke, 
Essex,  and  others,  and  some  of  them  were  given  to  poetry 
as  well.  Ben  Jonson  names  them  not,  but  as  ComeUus 
Gallus,  Tibullus,  &c.,  and  thus  was  able  to  defend 
himself  in  his  *'  Apologetical  Dialogue  "  to  the  Poetaster, 
which  was  prohibited  through  some  powerful  influence 
(perhaps  Bacon)  and  not  printed  till  some  time  after. 
The  author  there  says  : 

"  I  used  no  name.     My  books  have  still  been  taught 
To  spare  the  persons  and  to  speak  the  vices." 

And  I  am  afraid  the  vices  of  young  Ovid  are  here 
spoken  out,  for  Lupus  and  Tucca  both  advise  young  Ovid 
to  stick  to  the  law.  "  He  that  will  now  hit  the  mark 
must  shoot  through  the  law,"  says  Lupus ;  and  Tucca 
adds  that  it  is  easy  enough  as  a  profession,  a  Httle  talk 
and  noise  and  impudence  will  serve,  "  and  the  less  art 
the  better  :  besides  when  it  shall  be  in  the  power  of  thy 
chevril  conscience  to  do  right  or  wrong  at  thy  pleasure, 
my  pretty  Alcibiades."  I  think  Ben  Jonson  knew  how 
those  words,  chevril  and  Alcibiades,  were  like  to  gall  Bacon 
far  better  than  we  do,  but  we  may  be  sure  of  this,  they 
are  not  meant  to  allude  to  his  virtues. 


A  STRONG   SATIRE  89 

In  the  suppressed  "  Apologetical  Dialogue  "  we  have 
some  further  vicious  allusions.  Ben  says  of  the  authors 
who  had  attacked  him  : 

"  I  could  stamp 
Their  foreheads  with  those  deep  and  public  brands, 
That  the  whole  company  of  barber-surgeons 
Should  not  take  off,  with  all  their  art  and  plasters, 
And  these  my  prints  should  last,  still  to  be  read 
In  their  pale  fronts." 

And  some  lines  before  we  read  : 

"  Not  one  of  them  but  lives  himself,  if  known, 
Improbior  satiram  scribente  cincEdo?^ 

This  looks  like  attacking  "  scandals  "  in  pretty  plain 
language,  so  plain  indeed  that  some  "  cheveril "  lawyer 
(perhaps  Bacon)  either  went,  or  threatened  to  go,  to  the 
Star  Chamber  about  the  libel,  as  Ben  Jonson  tells  us 
himself  in  two  of  his  Epigrams,  to  be  quoted  presently. 

Then  later  on  there  is  a  great  deal  about  some  treason, 
conjuration,  or  conspiracy  that  was  to  be  brought  forward 
by  some  of  the  poet-players,  and  Ovid  among  them,  at 
a  theatre,  and  we  are  told  how  Histrio,  an  actor,  informs 
the  authorities  of  the  state,  and  how  eventually  it  comes 
to  the  emperor's  ears,  and  Ovid  is  banished  from  court. 
The  information  that  Histrio  supphes  is  to  the  effect 
that  a  letter  was  directed  to  him  and  his  fellow-sharers 
in  the  theatre,  asking  to  hire  some  of  the  stage  properties, 
a  sceptre,  crown,  caduceus,  petasus,  &c.  As  soon  as 
Lupus,  who  seems  to  represent  some  state  official,  hears 
of  it  he  says  :  "  Player,  I  thank  thee  :  the  Emperor  shall 
take  knowledge  of  thy  good  service ;  this  is  a  conjura- 
tion, a  conspiracy,  this."  * 

*  There  are  some  passages  and  characters  in  the  Poetaster  by  Ben  Jonson 
which  throw,  I  believe,  some  interesting  fresh  light  on  Shakespeare  and  Bacon, 
and  especially  upon  the  well-known  acting  of  Richard  II.  on  the  eve  of  that  day 
when  Essex  sought  to  recover  his  position  by  stirring  up  a  rebellion  in  the  city. 
We  know  that  the  play  was  ordered  to  be  performed  that  evening  specially  by 
command  of  the  heads  of  the  Essex  faction,  and  that  a  sum  of  40s.  was 
paid  to  the  company  to  induce  them  to  revive  this  play,  now  some  time  out 
of  vogue.  It  was  thought  to  be  treasonable,  and  all  the  more  so  on  account  of 
the  circumstances  attending  the  performance,  and  the  particular  time  chosen. 
The  matter  was  brought  up  as  evidence  against  Essex  at  his  trial,  and  told 


9©  BEN   JONSON   AND   BACON 

Now  all  this  fits  in  with  what  we  know  of  the  play  of 
Richard  II.  being  acted  by  arrangement  before  Essex 
and  his  party  the  night  before  they  made  their  mad 
attempt  on  the  city.  Bacon  was  placed  in  an  awkward 
predicament  at  the  trial  of  Essex,  as  is  well  known,  by 
having  to  help  in  the  prosecution  of  his  old  friend  and 
patron,  and  also  to  bring  in  constructive  treason  in  con- 
nection with  Richard  II.  being  played  the  evening  before 
to  encourage  the  conspirators.  Bacon  did  not  like  his 
position  at  all,  for,  as  he  suggested,  it  might  be  bruited 
abroad  that  he  was  bringing  in  evidence  one  of  his  own 
tales. 

There  was  certainly  suspicion  raised  against  Bacon 
about  this  time  (1601),  and  he  was  under  a  cloud,  virtually 
banished  from  court,  although  the  Queen  took  his  legal 
advice  when  necessary.  The  Poetaster  was  written  shortly 
after  these  events,  when  they  were  still  occupying  men's 

against  him  very  much,  and  embittered  the  Queen,  who,  feeling  that  she  was 
aimed  at  in  the  plot  of  the  piece,  treated  it  as  a  personal  matter.  However, 
strange  to  say,  the  players  of  this  supposed  treasonable  plot  got  off  scot-free, 
and  Shakespeare  was  not  so  much  as  once  named  in  connection  with  the  play, 
though  he  took  a  prominent  part  both  in  the  composition  and  acting  of  the 
play,  and  the  matter  was  apparently  well  sifted  at  the  trial.  But  if  we  take 
the  play  to  be  an  old  one  written  by  Bacon  some  time  previously,  we  shall  find 
that  Ben's  allusions  to  the  matter  in  the  Poetaster  all  fit  in  excellently,  and  we 
shall  understand,  in  a  way  never  understood  before,  what  most  probably  hap- 
pened in  regard  to  this  one  memorable  revival  of  Richard  II.  on  the  eve  of  the 
foolish  rising  of  Essex.  There  are  two  characters  in  the  Poetaster  called  by 
the  stage  names  of  Histrio  and  yEsop,  and  the  first  seems  by  a  particularly 
clear  allusion  to  be  Alleyn,  who  made  so  much  money  as  builder  and  manager 
(in  part)  of  the  Fortune  Theatre. 

In  Act  III.  sc.  I  Captain  Tucca,  a  swaggering  militaire,  sees  Histrio  pass 
by  him  without  due  deferential  salute ;  so  he  has  him  called  back  and  rates  him 
for  it:  "No  respect  to  men  of  worship,  you  slave  !  Ha  !  you  grow  rich,  do 
you,  and  purchase,  you  two-penny  tear-mouth,  you  have  FORTUNE  and  the 
good  year  on  your  side."  Histrio  would  thus  appear  to  point  to  Alleyn  of 
the  prosperous  Fortune  Theatre,  where  he  acted  and  was  joint  owner  with  his 
father-in-law,  whereas  Henslowe,  who  did  not  act,  does  not  answer  to  the 
description.  And  in  Act  IV.  sc.  2  and  elsewhere  we  have  Histrio,  or  Alleyn, 
telling  a  certain  high  official  either  of  the  court  or  city  that  there  is  a  conspiracy 
being  hatched  in  connection  with  a  certain  play  by  young  Master  Ovid  (Francis 
Bacon),  and  that  he  (Alleyn)  discovered  it  by  reason  of  a  letter  directed  to 
him  and  his  fellow-sharers  of  his  theatre  (the  Rose  and  the  Fortune  were  both 
his  at  this  date),  begging  to  be  allowed  to  hire  some  of  his  stage  properties — 
a  sceptre,  crown,  and  a  petasus,  &c.     This  sets  the  official  in  a  mind  to  look 


A   CLEVER   PARODY  91 

minds,  and  therefore  likely  to  be  introduced  into  a  new 
satirical  comedy.  For  the  theatres  took,  to  a  great 
extent,  the  place  of  newspapers  and  society  journals  in 
the  Elizabethan  days.  Moreover,  there  is  a  long  love 
scene  between  Ovid  and  Julia  (his  "  dear  Julia,  the 
abstract  of  the  court  ")  which  the  annotators  of  the  play 
can  make  nothing  of ;  it  is  called  by  one  of  them  "  a 
kind  of  metaphysical  hurly-burly,  of  which  it  is  not  easy 
to  discover  the  purport  or  end."  But  this  high-flown 
lover's  dialogue  between  Ovid  below  and  Julia  at  her 
chamber  window  is  very  likely  a  striking  and  clever 
parody  on  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and  so  fits  in  with  the  rest 
of  Ben  Jonson's  allusions  throughout  his  Poetaster,  and 
gives  us  good  grounds  for  thinking  that  he,  at  least,  as 
early  as  1602,  had  got  to  know  that  Bacon  was  the  author 
of  Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and 
Richard  II. 

into  the  matter,  and  he  seems  to  have  obtained  further  information  from  a  player 
named  yEsop,  who  can  be  identified  for  several  reasons  with  Shakespeare.  The 
official  tells  Cssar( Elizabeth  the  Queen),  and  ^sop  is  brought  upon  the  stage 
to  answer  before  Caesar,  and  Captain  Tucca  describes  him  thus  (Act  V.  sc.  l) : 

"  'Tis  a  gentleman  of  quality  this,  though  he  be  somewhat  out  of  clothes, 
I  tell  ye. — Come,  yEsop,  hast  a  bay  leaf  in  thy  mouth  ?  *  Well  said  ;  be  not 
out,  stinkard.  Thou  shalt  have  a  monopoly  of  playing  confirmed  to  thee  and 
thy  covey  under  the  emperor's  broad  seal  for  this  service." 

The  result  is  that  Ceesar  orders  him  to  be  taken  away,  and  adds  this  in- 
junction to  the  satellites  who  hurry  him  off : 

'*  Gag  him  that  we  may  have  his  silence." 

If  we  read  between  the  lines  correctly  it  looks  as  if  Shakespeare's  company 
at  the  Globe,  when  asked  on  short  notice  to  perform  Richard  II.,  an  old  play, 
at  once  sent  off  to  Alleyn  at  the  Rose  Theatre,  not  far  off,  to  beg  the  hire  of 
such  old  stage  properties  of  the  piece  as  they  might  still  have  about  the  theatre. 
Thereupon  Alleyn,  who  was  no  friend  to  his  rising  rival  the  Globe,  suspecting 
what  was  about  to  be  done,  eventually  informed  the  authorities.  Then  ^sop, 
or  Shakespeare,  was  questioned,  and  he  cleared  himself  by  showing  he  was  not 
the  real  author.  Silence  was  imposed  upon  him — he  was  gagged,  and  the 
matter  allowed  to  drop  into  oblivion.  If  Richard  II.  passed  as  one  of  Shake- 
speare's Plays  in  1601,  it  has  always  puzzled  commentators  to  explain  why, 
when  there  was  a  judicial  investigation  into  this  important  matter,  it  so 
happened  that  Shakespeare's  name  was  not  referred  to  throughout  the  inquiry. 
I  think  Ben  Jonson  in  the  Poetaster  lets  us  somewhat  into  the  secret  of  the 
matter  :  Ovid,  i.e.  Bacon,  was  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

*  A  bay  leaf  was  thought  to  be  conducive  to  eloquence  if  placed  under  the 
ongue — the  bay,  too,  was  sacred  to  Apollo. 


92  BEN  JONSON   AND   BACON 

But  the  whole  play  should  be  carefully  read ;  it  is 
full  of  contemporary  allusions,  and  the  quick-witted 
theatre-goers  of  the  day  would  seize  upon  them  with 
avidity. 

Anyhow,  Shakespearians  all  allow  that  the  author  of 
the  Poems  was  a  great  admirer  of  Ovid,  and  Professor 
Baynes  has  shown  at  great  length  *  that  Shakespeare 
was  familiar  with  Ovid  to  a  degree  formerly  little  sus- 
pected ;  that  Shakespeare  was  independent  of  English 
translations  of  the  Elegies,  for  they  had  not  yet  been 
made ;  and  that  quite  early  in  life,  before  he  left  Stratford, 
Shakespeare  knew  his  Ovid  pretty  intimately,  and  with 
the  perception  of  a  scholar.  I  must  say  I  would  rather 
take  Jonson's  word  that  Shakespeare  "  knew  little  Latin," 
and  accept  Jonson's  allusions  as  meaning  that  the  true 
Ovid  of  the  Poems,  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and  of  Richard  II, 
was  Francis  Bacon,  the  needy  *'  younger  brother "  of 
Gray's  Inn,  who  had  no  "  stomach  to  digest  this  law," 
but  who  had  friends  who  were  "  gentlemen  of  means  and 
revenues,"  and  was  himself  well-nigh  "  CastaUan  mad," 
and  in  addition  nearly  got  himself  into  trouble  over  the 
play  of  Richard  II.  We  know  well  enough  from  Ben 
Jonson's  Epigrams  who  it  was  that  stirred  up  the  autho- 
rities against  the  Poetaster  and  its  Epilogue.  It  was 
Cheveril,  the  Lawyer. 

EPIGRAM   LIV 

Cheveril  cries  out  my  verses  libels  are  ; 
And  threatens  the  Star-Chamber  and  the  Bar. 
What  are  thy  petulant  pleadings,  Cheveril,  then, 
That  quit'st  the  cause  so  oft,  and  rail'st  at  men  ? 

EPIGRAM  XXXVII 

On  Cheveril  the  Lawyer 

No  cause,  nor  client  fat,  will  Cheveril  leese, 
But  as  they  come,  on  both  sides  he  takes  fees, 
And  pleaseth  both  ;  for  while  he  melts  his  grease 
For  this  ;  that  wins,  for  whom  he  holds  his  peace. 

The  sobriquet  "  Cheveril "  was  probably  given  from  a 
common  saying,  used  by  Stubbes,  Anatomy  of  Abuses  : 

*  Shakespeare  Studies,  1894,  pp.  195-249. 


SHAKESPEARE'S   LOVE   OF  THE   STAGE     93 

*'  The  lawyers  have  such  cheveril  consciences,"  i.e.  they 
stretch  as  easily  as  a  kid  glove.  Or  else  the  omnivorous 
Ben  had  noticed  the  word  "  cheveril  "  two  or  three  times 
in  the  Shakespeare  Plays,  and  thought  it  would  be  a 
capital  word  to  turn  against  Bacon,  and  to  hoist  him 
with  his  own  petard,  for  in  the  matter  of  the  Essex  treason 
it  was  generally  felt  that  Bacon's  conscience  had  been  of 
a  most  yielding,  soft,  and  ultra-expansive  kind — and  so 
on  Cheveril  the  Lawyer  would  score  a  hit. 

As  is  well  known,  Ben  Jonson  eventually  (c.  1617) 
became  on  friendly  terms  with  Bacon,  and  at  the  latter 
end  of  the  Lord  Chancellor's  Hfe,  and  after  his  disgrace, 
the  friendly  terms  rose  to  personal  intimacy,  and  Ben 
was  very  useful  to  Bacon  in  literary  matters  and  Latin 
translations,  and  undoubtedly  had  a  large  share  in  bring- 
ing out  the  First  Folio  of  1623,  and  arranging  and  writing 
the  prefatory  matter. 

I  have  already  given  my  view  that  Luscus  stands  for 
Shakespeare  the  actor  in  Marston's  Scourge  of  Villainie, 
and  that  Luscus  also  stands  for  the  same  famous  Stratford 
player  in  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  just  considered.  If  we 
accept  this  we  shall  get  some  interesting  addition  to  our 
very  scanty  budget  of  facts  about  Shakespeare's  personal 
characteristics.  According  to  Marston,  the  actor-manager, 
Shakespeare  was  thoroughly  taken  up  by  his  profession, 

and  he 

"  Ne'er  of  ought  did  speak 
But  when  of  plays  and  players  he  did  treat." 

This  sounds  very  likely,  and  would  account  for  the  little 
we  hear  of  Shakespeare  publicly  or  in  society.  He  stuck 
close  to  his  routine  of  theatrical  work,  and  was  frugal 
and  careful  about  money,  as  we  can  judge  by  results. 
Marston  hints  also  that  he  was  a  critic  of  plays,  and 
transferred  the  passages  he  admired  into  his  common- 
place book,  that  he  was  much  applauded  "  by  curtain 
(i.e.  the  Curtain  Theatre)  plaudities,"  that  he  was  a  fine 
delineator  of  character,  and  that  he  managed  to  do  all  this 

"  From  out  his  huge  long-scraped  stock 
Of  well-penn'd  plays." 


94  BEN   JONSON   AND   BACON 

This  seems  probable  enough,  and  would  account  very 
well  for  the  contemporary  views  which  we  meet  with 
concerning  him.  Shakespeare  was  a  busy,  important, 
actor-manager,  with  his  heart  in  his  work,  with  a  gift 
of  flowing,  felicitous  language,  and  possibly  a  power  of 
gag  in  addition  ;  all  this  impressed  the  audience  and  the 
public,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  any  of  his  contemporaries 
that  the  plays,  attributed  to  him  openly  in  print,  were 
beyond  his  powers — except  those  few,  such  as  Jonson, 
Marston,  and  Hall,  who  had  discovered  the  secret,  as  I 
contend.  Looked  at  in  this  light,  the  proof  of  the  Shake- 
spearian authorship  inferred  from  the  contemporary 
assent  to  it  is  by  no  means  a  weighty  proof,  and  yet  this 
is  the  grand,  incontrovertible,  and  decisive  proof  tliat 
the  orthodox  critics  rely  upon. 

I  hope  that  the  evidence  adduced  so  far  throws 
a  little  new  light  on  the  way  in  which  Ben  Jonson 
viewed  Shakespeare  and  Bacon.  But  we  still  get  Ben's 
view  of  Shakespeare  best  from  the  Epigram  on  the 
Poet-ape,  and  when  we  remember  that  this  was  first 
published  in  the  collected  edition  of  Jonson's  works  in 
1616,  the  year  of  Shakespeare's  death,  we  shall  have  to 
consider  it,  I  am  afraid,  as  Ben's  final  judgment  on  his 
contemporary,  and  we  shall  have  to  conclude  that  both 
Ben  Jonson  and  Greene  thought  very  little  of  the  Player's 
talents  or  literary  methods.  As  late  as  the  eve  of  Shake- 
speare's death,  Ben  Jonson  seems  to  have  had  as  little  re- 
spect for  Shakespeare's  genius  as  he  had  in  1602,  and  this 
certainly  leads  me  to  think  that  he  knew  very  well  that 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  Hamlet,  and  Lear,  and  many  other  re- 
markable dramas  that  were  then  being  brought  forth,  were 
not  from  the  brain  of  Shakespeare  the  player  and  parcel- 
poet.  Not  even  in  a  moment  of  envy  could  Ben  have  called 
such  productions  "  the  frippery  of  wit."  He  was  a  better 
critic  than  that,  although  I  believe  his  theory  of  art  did  not 
quite  agree  with  the  art  as  displayed  in  the  plays — it  was 
not  classic  enough  in  form  for  the  learned  Ben ;  and  that 
is  what  he  meant  when  he  told  Drummond  of  Hawthorn- 
den,  in  1618,  that  Shakespeare  wanted  art. 


SHAKESPEARE'S   SHREDS  95 

But  let  us  read  again  his  Epigram  : 

"  Poor  Poet-ape  that  would  be  thought  our  chief, 

Whose  works  are  e'en  the  frippery  of  wit, 
From  brokage  is  become  so  bold  a  thief, 

As  we  the  robb'd,  leave  rage,  and  pity  it. 
At  first  he  made  low  shifts,  would  pick  and  glean, 

Buy  the  reversion  of  old  plays  ;  now  grown 
To  a  little  wealth  and  credit  in  the  scene, 

He  takes  up  all,  makes  each  man's  wit  his  own. 
And  told  of  this  he  slights  it.     Tut,  such  crimes 

The  sluggish  gaping  auditor  devours  ; 
He  marks  not  whose  'twas  first,  and  aftertimes 

May  judge  it  to  be  his,  as  well  as  ours. 
Fool !  as  if  half  eyes  will  not  know  a  fleece 
From  locks  of  wool,  or  shreds  from  the  whole  piece." 

Does  not  this  look  as  if  Ben  Jonson  knew  that  Bacon 
supplied  the  fleece,  and  that  the  successful  player  "  grown 
to  a  little  wealth  "  was  only  responsible  for  certain  shreds 
or  locks  of  wool  in  it  ?  I  name  Bacon  for  the  fleece, 
because  there  are  no  hints  in  any  of  Ben's  Aristophanic 
allusions  of  any  other  possible  provider  for  such  a  re- 
markable article,  and  because  all  the  hints  that  are  given 
seem,  as  we  have  just  seen  in  the  Poetaster  and  other 
plays,  to  point  directly  to  Bacon.  We  gather  also  from 
this  important  Epigram  that  Shakespeare  the  Player  had 
become  a  "  credit  in  the  scene  " — that  he  was  now  not 
merely  a  Johannes  Fac-totum  full  of  conceit,  who  supposed 
that  he  could  "  bombast  out  a  blank  verse  "  (i.e.  write 
or  fill  one  out)  as  well  as  any  one,  as  Greene  said  in  1592, 
but  a  good  and  capable  actor  as  well.  This  quite  does 
away  with  the  foolish  tradition  that  his  best  effort  was 
the  Ghost  in  his  own  Hamlet,  and  also  should  prevent 
Baconians  from  making  the  too-wide  assertion  that 
Bacon  wrote  Shakespeare,  which  we  can  plainly  see  from 
this  present  Epigram  is  not  strictly  correct.  Shakespeare 
the  Player  had  a  hand  in  the  Plays  ;  his  shreds  are  there, 
though  no  one  can  pick  them  out  now  for  certain.  He  was 
a  "  broker  "  of  old  or  unfinished  plays,  and  a  "  gleaner  " 
in  other  men's  fields,  and  he  did  not  care  if  people  taxed 
him  with  it.     "  He  slights  it."     He  was  making  money 


96  BEN  JONSON   AND   BACON 

in  a  legitimate  way,  and  some  such  "  factotum  "  there 
must  be  in  every  company  that  wants  to  keep  aUve  in  the 
pubHc  estimation.  Such  hterary  bantUngs  as  other  men 
did  not  care  to  bring  up,  or  were  partly  ashamed  of,  he 
would  "  take  up  "  ;  and  when  they  came  to  maturity 
under  his  hand,  by  what  name  should  they  be  presented 
to  the  public  unless  it  were  his  name  ?  True,  when  he 
wrote  his  own  name  he  did  not  spell  it  Shake-speare,  and 
these  bantlings  appeared  under  that  form  of  spelling,  but 
as  he  had  been  called  Shake-scene  in  1592,  he  was  not 
likely  to  care  much  for  being  called  Shake-speare  in  1598. 
Perhaps  one  of  the  "  grand  possessors  "  of  the  plays  who 
had  a  talent  for  mystifying  the  public  preferred  that  form. 
The  Stratford  man  could  afford  to  "  shght "  this  mere 
detail,  and  if  Poems  were  sent  forth  to  the  world  in  1593 
and  1594  with  William  Shakespeare  at  the  foot  of  the 
dedications,  well,  he  "  slighted "  that  too,  even  if  the 
surly  "  Ben  "  should  call  him  "  Poet-ape  "  on  this  very 
account. 

But  the  Stratford  man  was  responsible  for  some  of  the 
work  in  the  Plays — not  the  best  of  it — and  perhaps  was 
responsible  also  for  more  of  the  facetious  vulgarity  than 
we  shall  ever  know  about.  There  are  certainly  a  good 
many  shreds  in  the  fleece  that  do  not  look  as  if  they  ever 
belonged  to  Bacon.  Just  take  some  of  the  names  of  the 
inferior  characters,  in  connection  with  the  following  fact. 
During  the  year  Nov.  1591-Nov.  1592  the  country  was 
searched  for  recusants.  In  some  counties  more  than  one 
commission  was  held.  This  was  the  case  in  Warwick- 
shire, where  we  find  there  was  a  second  commission  in 
this  year  1591-2.  At  the  head  of  this  we  find  the  names 
of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  and  Sir  Fulke  Greville,  who  were 
active  persecutors  of  the  Papists.  There  is  a  long  list  of 
recusants  and  others  who  did  not  come  to  the  parish 
church  for  divers  reasons,  and  John  Shakespeare,  the 
father  of  W^illiam  Shakespeare,  is  one  of  them.  Strange 
to  say,  there  are  seven  of  the  characters  of  the  Plays 
among  these  Warwickshire  recusants,  viz.  Page,  Fluellen, 
Gower,  Bates,  Court,  Bardolph,  and  Bolt.     According  to 


THE   SEVEN   RECUSANTS  97 

Aubrey,  the  names  of  the  poet's  dramatic  personages 
were  often  taken  from  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance,  for 
he  and  Ben  Jonson  gathered  humours  wherever  they 
went ;  thus  the  original  of  Dogberry  was  a  constable 
Shakespeare  met  one  midsummer  night  at  Crendon  in 
Bucks. 

The  authority  for  the  above  is  Father  Bowden,*  who 
endeavours  to  show  that  Shakespeare  was  of  the  Old 
Religion  and  a  good  Roman  Catholic.  I  assume  that 
his  list  of  recusants  is  correct,  and  therefore  admit  that 
for  seven  Stratford  or  Warwickshire  recusants  to  have 
their  names  put  in  the  Plays  is  a  curious  fact  that  wants 
explanation.  It  certainly  looks  as  if  Shakespeare  put 
them  there,  or  supplied  the  names  to  Bacon.  But  our 
theory  does  not  exclude  the  supposition  that  Shakespeare 
touched  up  for  the  gallery  whatever  MSS.  he  obtained. 

But  now  the  question  arises,  and  a  very  important 
one  it  is,  if  Ben  Jonson  so  depreciates  Shakespeare  as  the 
Poet-ape,  how  can  it  possibly  have  happened  that  in 
1623,  only  seven  years  afterwards,  this  same  broker  of 
old  plays,  and  patcher  of  shreds,  this  parcel-poet  with 
his  frippery  of  wit,  became  at  once  in  Ben's  eyes  the 

"  Soul  of  the  Age  ! 
The  applause  !  delight !  the  wonder  of  our  Stage  ! 
My  Shakespeare  ! " 

How  can  it  be  that  we  have  in  1623  the  full-page  portrait 
of  the  mahgned  Player  William  Shakespeare  prefixed  to 
the  collected  Plays,  and  opposite  to  the  portrait  some 
more  lines  by  his  quondam  maligner  Ben,  who  now  calls 
him  "  Gentle  Shakespeare,"  whereas  of  old  he  called  him 
anything  but  "  gentle,"  and  was  continually  deriding  his 
claims  on  the  Heralds'  College  ?  "  They  forget  they  are 
i'  the  statute,  the  rascals ;  they  are  blazoned  there ; 
there  they  are  tricked  they  and  their  pedigrees,  they 
need  no  other  heralds  I  wiss."  t  Is  it  possible  that  the 
surly,  cantankerous,  envious,  and  independent  Ben 
assumes  the  office  of  a  Herald  in  the  foho  and  caUs 

*  Religion  of  Shakespeare y  p.  83.  t  Poetaster ,  Act  I.  sc.  i, 

G 


98  BEN  JONSON   AND   BACON 

Shakespeare  "  gentle "  to  his  face  ?  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  it  seems  so,  and  has  seemed  so  from  the  time 
it  was  written  until  the  present  day. 

This  portrait  of  the  Player,  and  the  laudatory  verses 
accompan5ang  it  in  the  first  collected  edition  of  the 
Shakespeare  Plays,  have,  taken  together,  effectually  pre- 
cluded all  argument  or  doubt  about  authorship  for  quite 
two  hundred  and  forty  years,  and  they  still  are  the  great 
stronghold  of  the  orthodox  party.  They  reason  thus  : 
Whatever  kind  of  man  Ben  Jonson  might  be,  rugged, 
cantankerous,  Aristophanic,  or  even  libellous,  yet  he  was 
of  such  a  bold  and  independent  nature  that  he  could  not 
possibly  become  such  a  mean,  sycophantic  liar  as  to 
declare  Shakespeare  the  Player  to  be  the  author  of  the 
immortal  Plays,  when  he  knew  all  the  time  that  Bacon 
was  the  right  man.  Now,  the  strength  of  this  argument 
is  very  great;  in  fact  this  portrait  and  the  title-pages 
accompanying  it  have  been  called  Shakespeare's  title- 
deeds  to  his  property,  and  they  certainly  are  the  best 
that  his  admirers  can  produce  before  the  court  of  public 
opinion.  They  have  been  brought  up  and  verified  again 
and  again,  and  those  who  produce  them  have  always 
maintained,  and  still  maintain,  that  the  disputers  of 
Shakespeare's  title  have  absolutely  "  no  case."  The 
leading  critics  and  the  leading  newspapers  with  one  voice 
shout  out  "  No  case  "  ;  or  if  they  do  not  shout,  they 
enter  into  a  conspiracy  of  silence. 

The  argument  certainly  seems  decisive,  and  at  first 
sight  one  would  suppose  there  was  no  more  to  be  said. 
But  the  more  this  particular  matter  is  examined,  the  more 
suspicious  does  it  become.  There  seems  some  juggling 
with  words  and  phrases  here.  There  seems  some 
"  mystery,"  and  what  Ben  Jonson  wrote  concerning 
Bacon,  who  was  celebrating  his  sixty-first  birthday  at 
York  House — "  Thou  stand'st  as  though  some  mystery 
thou  didst " — may  well  be  retorted  upon  Ben's  Unes  that 
face  the  famous  Droeshout  engraving  of  Shakespeare. 
The  lines  do  not  seem  to  say  what  they  mean.  I 
certainly  had  no  suspicion  of   anything   misleading   in 


AN   AMBIGUOUS   TESTIMONIAL  99 

the  lines  until  the  suggestion  was  made  to  me  some 
years  ago,  and  then  a  somewhat  similar  case  of  hood- 
winking by  phraseology  came  into  my  mind  which  had 
happened  within  my  own  knowledge  long  before.  A 
friend  of  mine  was  applying  for  a  mathematical  tutorship, 
and  sent  round  to  his  old  College  friends  and  tutors  for 
testimonials  as  to  fitness  and  ability.  He  received  one 
from  a  very  distinguished  mathematician  in  these  words : 

"  Gentlemen, — Mr.  X.  has  applied  to  me,  on  the  ground  of 
our  former  acquaintance  and  friendship,  for  a  testimonial  as  to  his 
mathematical  abilities.  I  am  not  in  favour  of  verbose  or  elabo- 
rate testimonials,  and  therefore  I  hope  it  will  be  sufficient  for  me 
to  say  that  I  always  have  valued  and  do  still  value  his  mathe- 
matical attainments  quite  as  highly  as  I  do  his  friendship.  I  knew 
him  during  several  years,  so  my  opinion  has  the  merit  of  being 
founded  at  least  on  some  experience." 

Mr.  X.  was  very  pleased  with  this,  and  showed  it  to 
me  with  some  degree  of  pride  as  coming  from  so  eminent 
a  man.  I  remember  at  the  time  that  it  seemed  to  me 
rather  curt  and  indefinite  ;  but  eminent  mathematicians 
have  their  little  peculiarities  as  I  knew  well  enough,  and 
so  I  thought  no  more  about  it,  especially  when  I  heard 
that  X.  had  been  chosen  for  the  post  he  sought,  mainly, 
as  he  thought,  on  the  weight  of  this  particular  reference. 
Some  time  afterwards  I  heard  that  the  eminent  mathe- 
matician had  "  given  himself  away"  by  remarking  in  an 
unguarded  moment  that  he  really  didn't  care  a  button 
either  for  Mr.  X.'s  mathematics  or  his  friendship,  one  was 
no  better  than  the  other.  In  fact,  neither  Mr.  X.  nor  I,  nor 
yet,  as  it  appears,  the  gentlemen  of  the  committee,  had  any 
suspicion  of  the  bona  fides  of  the  distinguished  reference. 
They  took  their  first  impression,  and  retained  it. 

Now  I  think  this  is  exactly  what  people  have  been 
doing  for  a  long  term  of  years  with  Ben  Jonson's  testi- 
monial to  Shakespeare.  They  have  taken  for  granted 
that  it  was  intended  in  a  good  sense,  and  do  not  suspect 
for  a  moment  that  it  may  be  a  kick  rather  than  a  com- 
pliment.    It  was  just  so  with  Mr.  X.    The  more  I  read 


loo  BEN   JONSON  AND   BACON 

these  "  commendatory  verses  "  of  Ben  Jonson,  the  less 
sure  I  am  that  they  are  commendatory,  the  less  sure  I 
am  that  Shakespeare  the  Player  is  meant,  and  the  more 
likely  it  seems  that  Shakespeare  here  =  Bacon.  The  very 
first  lines  are  puzzling  : 

"  To  draw  no  envy,  Shakespeare,  on  thy  name, 
Am  I  thus  ample  to  thy  book  and  fame." 

Envy  has  to  do  with  the  living  more  than  with  the 
dead — the  lines  might  be  ol  propos  in  Bacon's  case,  but 
hardly  so  in  Shakespeare's.  Envy  here  seems  to  mean 
ill  reputation,  or  the  wagging  tongues  of  enemies.  These 
could  tarnish  Bacon's  name,  and  his  revealed  connection 
with  writing  plays  for  the  theatres  would  be  harm  to  him 
rather  than  good.  But  it  would  be  different  in  Shake- 
speare's case,  and  he  too  was  out  of  the  reach  of  wagging 
tongues  of  envy.  And  further  on  the  lines  about  "  crafty 
malice  "  pretending  to  praise,  and  yet  intentionally  ruin- 
ing the  object  of  that  praise,  would  bear  some  rational 
meaning  if  applied  to  Bacon,  who  would  be  ruined  for  a 
seat  in  the  House  of  Lords  if  it  leaked  out  that  he  was  a 
play-writer  ;  but  the  application  to  Shakespeare  is  much 
less  clear.  Then  Ben  goes  on  to  say  that  Shakespeare  is  "  a 
Monument  without  a  tomb,"  and  that  he  is  alive  still — 
which  is  rather  startling  until  we  read  on,  "  while  thy  Book 
doth  live."     Which  sounds  rather  hke  word-jugglery. 

And  when  we  come  to  the  famous  words  facing  the 
portrait,*  matters  seem  to  get  even  still  more  suspicious 
and  mystifying.  That  word  "  brass "  does  not  sound 
very  complimentary ;  we  think  of  a  brazen-faced  impostor, 
or  we  think,  perhaps,  of  those  well-known  lines  in  the 
play  of  King  Henry  VIII.  : 

"  Men's  evil  manners  Hve  in  brass  ;  their  virtues 
We  write  in  water." 

And  we  feel  the  wooden-headed  effigy  has  had  a  down- 
right kick.     Moreover,  we  are  told  not  to  look  at  it : 

"  Reader,  look 
Not  on  his  picture,  but  his  book." 

*  Given  in  Appendix,  with  curious  matter  connected  therewith. 


THE   DROESHOUT   FIGURE  loi 

This  seems,  too,  a  strange  injunction,  and  if  we  break 
it,  and  carefully  inspect  the  picture,  what  do  we  find  ? 
We  shall  find,  so  Mr.  Lee  tells  us,  that  only  twenty  of 
these  figures  (out  of  two  hundr^^d  copies  e:xtant)  are 
printed  on  the  title-page  ;  the  rest  ,are  either,  inlaid  or  in 
some  way  imperfect.  This  agam  lookss  as  ii,  there  was 
something  wrong  originally,  or  that  another  portrait  had 
been  intended  for  the  space.  And  what  is  still  more 
singular,  the  dress  of  the  figure  that  faces  Ben  Jonson's 
lines  looks  more  like  the  dress  of  an  aristocrat  or  court- 
gallant  than  the  plain  dress  of  a  bourgeois  Player.  Alto- 
gether we  cannot  help  feeling  that  there  is  more  here 
than  meets  the  eye.  And  the  way  in  which  Ben  Jonson, 
who  after  Shakespeare's  death  seems  to  have  been  per- 
manently reconciled  to  Bacon,  clearly  took  the  leading 
part  in  ushering  the  book  to  the  public,  and  quite  put 
Heminge  and  Condell  in  the  background,  adds  much  to  the 
singular  mystery  surrounding  the  whole  production  of  the 
contents  of  that  renowned  book — perhaps  the  most 
wonderful  single  volume  in  the  whole  of  literature — the 
first  folio  of  1623. 

One  more  remark  before  we  dismiss  this  famous 
Droeshout  woodcut.  As  Ben  Jonson  was  necessarily 
much  at  Gorhambury  when  he  was  helping  Bacon  to 
get  his  works  translated  into  Latin  (a  year  or  two  before 
the  1623  folio),  we  may  take  it  for  granted  that  he  had 
seen  or  knew  of  Hilliard's  picture  of  young  Francis  in 
1578,  round  which  the  painter  had  inscribed — "  Si  tabula 
daretur  digna,  animam  mallem,''  i.e.  Would  that  I  could 
paint  his  mind  !  Would  that  I  had  a  material  or  canvas 
worthy  of  such  a  subject ! 

The  very  fact  of  this  same  rather  unusual  idea  being 
brought  into  Ben's  lines,  seems  to  point  towards  Bacon, 
or  at  least  to  Jonson  having  Bacon's  picture  in  his  thoughts 
when  he  wrote  his  mystifying  lines.  But  how  courteous 
and  lucid  is  Hilliard  ;  there  is  no  suspicious  "  brass  "  in 
his  eulogy.  How  different  when  we  come  to  Ben's  verses, 
and  the  hydrocephalic-looking  figure  which  faces  them. 
Surely  such  a  head  never  brought  forth  Pallas  Athene 


I02       BEN  JONSON  AND  BACON 

fully  armed  and  shaking  her  speare  against  Ignorance  and 
Folly. 

Besides,  this  figure-head  is  not  like  the  head  on  the 
Stratford.tombvyoiv^would  hardly  believe  they  could 
both.bp  the.sanie.  jician.  The  orthodox  party  will  persist 
in  seeing  '.'  a  kind  of  likeness,"  but  many,  who  have  com- 
pared the  two,  think  (and  I  with  them)  that  the  only 
marked  resemblance  is  the  baldness  on  the  top  of  the  head  ! 

Perhaps  now  is  the  best  time  to  say  a  few  words  about 
the  Shakespeare  monument  in  the  chancel  of  Stratford- 
on- Avon's  parish  church.  This  too  is  considered  one  of 
the  "  indubitable  proofs  "  that  William  Shakespeare,  who 
was  buried  there,  wrote  the  immortal  Plays. 

If  we  knew  who  put  the  monument  where  it  is,  and 
who  composed  the  inscriptions  that  are  upon  it,  then 
some  very  strong  evidence  might  be  gathered  from  it. 
But  we  are  in  utter  ignorance  on  both  points,  and  are 
therefore  left  somewhat  in  suspense  as  to  our  judgment 
in  this  matter.  We  do  not  hear  a  word  about  it  till  1623, 
seven  years  after  Shakespeare's  death,  and  then  the  first 
mention  of  it  appears  in  that  famous  first  folio  which 
has  so  many  remarkable  and  suspicious  circumstances 
connected  with  its  publication. 

These  peculiar  circumstances  detract  considerably  from 
the  weight  of  evidence  which  such  a  monument  would 
generally  afford.  The  crowds  of  Americans  and  other 
people  who  are  constantly  passing  before  this  shrine  and 
god  of  their  pilgrimage  as  a  rule  hold  but  one  opinion 
on  this  subject,  and  that  is,  "  The  tomb  settles  the  ques- 
tion." But  does  it  really  ?  Is  the  Baconian  stream  of 
evidence,  which  has  of  late  years  so  increased  in  volume, 
and  is  rushing  on  daily  with  increasing  force,  to  be  dammed 
at  once  and  for  ever  by  a  tomb.  Can  a  piece  of  sculptured 
masonry,  prepared  and  put  up  by  "  no  one  knows  who," 
be  strong  enough  to  resist  or  turn  back  such  a  swelling 
torrent  ?  My  own  answer  would  be,  "  Certainly  not," 
and  I  would  remark  in  addition  that  the  first  line  of  the 
famous  Latin  inscription  on  the  tomb  looks  very  much 
as  if  it  was  composed  and  placed  there  by  some  one  who 


THE   MURAL   EPITAPH  103 

knew  the  Great  Secret  and  Mystery  of  the  problem  that 
faces  us. 

What  does  this  Hne  tell  us  ?  It  says  that  the  man 
there  buried  was  : 

^'■Judicio  Pylium^  genio  Socratem^  arte  Maronem^ 

that  is  to  say,  he  was  : 

"  A  Nestor  in  experienced  judgment, 
A  Socrates  in  philosophical  genius, 
And  an  Ovid  in  the  Poetry  of  Love." 

Could  the  mind  of  mortal  man  earn  higher  meed  of  praise 
than  that  ?  Where  else  could  these  three  great,  yet 
diverse,  merits  be  found  to  exist  together  in  supreme 
excellence  in  one  man  ?  I  made  my  first  pilgrimage  to 
the  tomb  in  my  undergraduate  days,  and  I  well  remember 
how  that  Latin  line,  and  its  trebly  condensed  praise, 
arrested  my  attention  : 

"  And  still  I  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew. 
That  one  small  head  should  carry  all  he  knew." 

I  was  strictly  orthodox,  for  in  those  days  no  one  ever 
caught  even  a  whiff  of  heresy,  and  while  I  stood  in  reve- 
rential awe  before  that  shrine  I  thought  of  no  one  but 
the  Stratford  genius,  and  that  other  genius  of  ancient 
Greece — that  "  bhnd  old  man  of  Scio's  rocky  isle,"  who 
was  the  only  parallel  instance  of  such  God-given  powers 
of  mind  that  then  occurred  to  me.  Ah !  quantum  mutatus 
— now  that  famous  Latin  line  on  the  tomb  seems  far 
more  appropriate  to  Bacon  than  to  Shakespeare ;  and 
as  for  the  Stratford  Player  being  either  a  Nestor  or  a 
Socrates,  I  must  confess  I  have  found  hardly  a  tittle  of 
corroboration  for  this  in  any  account  of  him  either  by 
friend  or  foe. 

Judicio  Pylius — a  Nestor  in  judgment!  The  quality 
for  which  Nestor  was  chiefly  famed  in  antiquity  was  his 
wisdom,  or  judicious  advice,  in  the  council-chamber  of 
heroes.  I  do  not  quite  see  where  this  quality  shows  itself 
in  any  special  manner  in  Shakespeare's  life.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  few  persons  in  all  history  to  whom 


I04  BEN   JONSON   AND   BACON 

the  words  are  more  applicable  than  to  the  great  Francis 
Bacon.  He,  if  any  man,  was  a  Nestor  in  wisdom  and 
in  judgment ;  wise,  as  he  sat  and  thought  in  his  study ; 
wise,  as  he  sat  on  the  seat  of  judgment  and  of  law,  and 
passed  decrees  concerning  which  Rush  worth  said,  "  Never 
any  decree  made  by  him  was  reversed  as  unjust."  Not 
even  after  his  fall  and  disgrace  were  his  decisions  over- 
ruled. Nowhere  could  a  more  judicious  counsellor  or 
giver  of  advice  be  found  in  Elizabethan  England ;  and 
he  was  always  ready  with  his  advice,  be  it  to  his  Queen, 
to  his  fellow-aristocrats,  or  to  his  private  friends.  He 
had  the  courage  of  his  opinions  when  quite  a  young  man, 
and  when  in  later  life  he  sat  in  his  arm-chair  at  Gorham- 
bury  meditating,  he  was  indeed  Judicio  Pylius — a  Nestor 
in  judgment — lacking  nothing  but  Nestor's  years. 

Take  the  second  historic  parallel  of  the  tomb.  Genio 
Socratem — a  Socrates  by  his  genius.  I  cannot  see  that 
there  was  much  of  the  "  Socratic  method  "  or  the  Socratic 
philosophy  displayed  in  any  part  of  the  life  of  William 
Shakespeare  the  Player,  so  far  as  we  know  it.  His 
marrying  before  he  could  support  a  family  was  not 
Socratic ;  nor  yet  his  rather  sordid  money-getting  ways 
as  actor-manager.  Socrates  was  an  accurate  logician, 
and  had  an  exalted  opinion  of  a  good  and  valid  argument ; 
but  when  Shakespeare  was  discovered  upon  the  premises 
of  a  London  citizen  where  he  had  legally  no  locus  standi, 
he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  best  way  to  deal  with 
Burbage,  his  fellow-tragedian,  who  was  knocking  for 
admittance  (and  also  seeking  a  locus  standi),  was  to  give 
him  a  piece  of  Shakespearian  logic,  which  was  to  the 
effect  that  William  the  Conqueror  was  before  Richard  III. ; 
ergo,  or  rather,  at  gal  Wilham  had  a  present  locus  standi, 
and  Richard  therefore  must  wait  for  a  future  one.  I 
cannot  call  this  Socratic  either  in  logic  or  morals,  and  I 
think  the  great  friend  of  Plato  would  have  objected  to 
the  premises  he  occupied,  the  conclusion  he  came  to,  the 
locus  standi  he  illegally  took,  and  above  all,  the  bastard 
logic  by  which  he  tried  to  defend  it.  Now  the  great 
Lord  Chancellor  had  somewhat  of  the  true  logical  and 


THE   STRATFORD  TOMB  105 

philosophical  spirit  of  Socrates  in  him,  and  he  has  left 
us  good  proof  of  it  in  the  Instauratio  Magna,  the  Novum 
Organum,  the  Essays,  the  Apophthegms,  and  other  acknow- 
ledged works  of  his  ;  but  to  put  in  the  first  line  of  William 
Shakespeare's  epitaph  that  he  was  genio  Socratem  was  a 
most  strange  choice  of  words,  and  by  no  means  what  one 
would  expect.  Besides  all  this,  the  words  contain  a 
howling  false  quantity,  and  will  not  scan.  The  ante- 
penultimate of  Socrates  is  as  long  as  one's  arm,  and  there- 
fore cannot  get  into  a  hexameter  at  all.  If  a  Greek 
Omega  is  not  long,  I  don't  know  what  letter  can  be.  It 
has  been  thought  that  Ben  Jonson  or  some  London  friend, 
or  possibly  Dr.  Hall,  the  son-in-law,  composed  this 
precious  line.  It  could  hardly  be  the  classic  Ben,  unless, 
perchance,  he  made  the  slip  on  purpose  that  posterity 
should  not  credit  him  with  such  vile  prosody  and  such 
inappropriate  praise.  Nor  do  our  difficulties  end  here, 
for  there  is  another  mystery ;  no  one  knows  when  the 
monument  was  erected,  who  paid  for  it,  and  who  arranged 
the  inscriptions.  There  may  have  been  no  monument  at 
all  until  about  a  few  months  before  the  folio  of  1623  was 
ready  for  publication,  for  anything  we  know  to  the  con- 
trary. Leonard  Digges  is  the  first  writer  who  tells  us  a 
single  word  about  it,  and  that  is  not  till  Shakespeare  had 
been  in  his  grave  seven  years.  In  some  commendatory 
verses  prefixed  to  the  first  folio  of  1623,  Digges  tells  us 
that  Shakespeare's  works  would  be  alive  when 

"  Time  dissolves  thy  Stratford  monument," 

and  that  is  all  the  information  we  get. 

I  have,  some  may  think,  dwelt  longer  than  neces- 
sary on  this  monument  and  its  epitaph.  My  reason  has 
been  this  ;  so  many  people  think  it  definitely  settles  the 
question  we  are  considering,  whereas  I  think  it  does  little 
more  than  leave  us  in  suspense  when  we  have  considered 
all  the  evidence,  and  the  singular  circumstances  connected 
with  it.  We  really  do  not  know  enough  how  and  when  it 
came  into  existence,  or  who  placed  it  where  we  now  see  it. 
It  is  by  no  means  impossible,  or  even  utterly  improbable. 


io6  BEN   JONSON   AND   BACON 

that  the  persons  who  arranged  and  edited  the  first  foUo 
also  arranged  and  edited  this  monument,  and  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  "  writing  on  the  wall."  This  requires 
an  interpreter  quite  as  much  as  did  that  other  writing  at 
Belshazzar's  Feast,  and  we  are  not  likely  to  be  sure  of 
our  interpretation  until  we  know  for  certain  who  wrote 
the  inscription,  and  with  what  object  it  was  thus 
strangely  conceived  and  worded. 

And  so  once  again  and  finally,  neither  the  Figure  in 
the  FoHo  nor  the  Effigy  in  the  Stratford  Chancel  definitely 
settles  the  authorship  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays.  And 
the  curious  laudation  of  Shakespeare  by  Ben  Jonson 
seems  so  full  of  double  meanings  and  mystifying  ex- 
pressions, that  it  is  bereft  of  most  of  its  evidential  value. 
"  But,"  some  one  may  say,  "  Ben  calls  Shakespeare  the 
*  Swan  of  Avon  '  ;  that's  plain  enough  in  all  conscience." 
No,  not  even  that  is  without  suspicion,  for  the  Avon 
flows  by  Cheltenham,  where  Bacon  had  an  estate,  as 
well  as  by  Stratford,  at  least  so  the  Baconians  say.  I 
cannot  vouch  for  the  Cheltenham  Avon  myself  ;  all  I 
know  is  that  when  I  was  at  Cheltenham  many  years  ago, 
I  did  not  hear  of  any  river  Avon  there,  but  of  course 
there  may  be — Avons  are  common  enough. 


CHAPTER    VII 

PROGRESS  AND   PREJUDICE 

The  preceding  chapter  on  Ben  Jonson  and  Shakespeare 
was  written  before  Judge  Webb's  excellent  book,  The 
Mystery  of  William  Shakespeare  (1902),  was  published. 
I  have  since  read  that  book  carefully,  and  especially  the 
chapter  on  Ben  Jonson  and  Shakespeare.  I  was  glad  to 
find  nothing  to  make  me  modify  or  alter  what  I  had 
already  written. 

There  is  nothing  of  the  "  crank  "  about  Judge  Webb, 
nor  is  it  very  likely  there  would  be  in  a  Regius  Professor 
of  Law.  His  arguments  and  pleas  are  carefully  considered, 
and  there  is  but  one  really  bad  mistake,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  and  that  is,  he  thinks  the  "  noted  weed  "  allusion 
in  Sonnet  lxxiv.  intimates  that  Shakespeare^  was  not  the 
author's  real  name.  This  interpretation  cannot  stand. 
But  certainly  such  a  well-timed,  well-prepared,  and  well- 
directed  blow  has  never  before  been  given  against  the 
Shakespearian  authorship  of  the  Plays.  But  will  this 
knock-down  blow  make  the  other  side  throw  up  the 
sponge  and  accept  defeat  cheerfully  ?  I  augur  nothing 
of  the  kind.  I  do  not  suppose  the  critics  and  the  news- 
papers are  Hkely  to  give  up  their  pet  traditions  merely 
because  some  judge  has  cleverly  arranged  his  words  so 
as  to  tell  against  them.  They  have  had  experience  of 
this  kind  of  thing  in  the  law-courts,  and  they  know  well 
enough  how  an  experienced  advocate  can  make  the 
worse  appear  the  better  reason.  Moreover,  nearly  all 
these  arguments  and  facts  have  been  before  the  world 
for  the  last  twenty  years  or  more,  and  have  convinced  no 
one  but  a  few  cranks.  *'  Have  not  these  same  bricks  been 
lying  about  the  Baconian  brick-fields  for  years  and  years 
for  any  to  examine  that  cared  to  do  it ;  and  now  because 


io8  PROGRESS   AND   PREJUDICE 

a  clever  judge  collects  them  together  and  presents  us  with 
a  rather  imposing  edifice  which  he  has  made  up  from 
them,  are  we  to  be  taken  in  by  it  ?  " 

People  who  have  strong  views  of  their  own  and  argue 
as  above  are  not  likely  to  be  convinced.  In  Judge  Webb's 
case  it  turned  out  as  I  thought ;  all  the  critics  and 
irresponsible  reviewers  attacked  him  at  once.  They  all 
fastened  their  fangs  on  his  one  evident  mistake,  and 
having  discharged  the  full  venom  of  their  rhetoric  on 
that,  they  finished  up  by  sneering  and  laughing  at  his 
carefully  built  edifice,  treating  it  as  a  mere  house  of  cards, 
with  no  solid  foundation  and  no  lasting  cohesion.  Having 
dislodged  one  of  Judge  Webb's  cards  or  bricks,  they 
assumed  the  airs  of  a  conqueror  who  had  brought  the 
whole  edifice  to  the  ground  in  ruins.  They  scored  the 
first  point  in  the  literary  fight,  and  thought  the  fight  was 
as  good  as  finished. 

But  many  a  literary  pugilist  gets  the  worst  of  the 
first  round  and  yet  proves  after  all  the  better  man.  I 
remember  weU,  years  ago,  seeing  and  hearing  Bradlaugh 
get  a  knock-down  blow  from  Father  Ignatius  on  the 
Hall  of  Science  debating  platform,  Bradlaugh's  own  castle 
where  he  was  king,  somewhere  in  the  City  of  London. 
The  Anglican  monk  cleverly  got  S.  Irenaeus  into  the  argu- 
ment, and  Bradlaugh,  who  would  persist  in  calling  the 
sainted  bishop  by  the  name  of  High-Reenyus,  and  evi- 
dently got  quite  at  sea  with  regard  to  him,  was  clearly 
floored.  But,  though  Bradlaugh  lost  this  round  in  spite 
of  (perhaps  partly  by  reason  of)  his  vigorous  aspirations^ 
he  certainly  scored  a  logical  victory  in  the  sum  total  of 
debate,  as  most  of  the  audience  admitted  irrespective  of 
their  own  convictions.  It  seems  to  me  that  when  the 
whole  controversy  is  properly  thrashed  out.  Judge  Webb, 
like  Bradlaugh,  will  be  shown  to  be  the  logical  victor. 

One  singular  and  useful  result  of  this  Regius  Professor 
of  Law  appearing  on  the  side  of  the  Baconian  heretics, 
has  been  the  imposing  spectacle  of  a  triangular  duel 
between  three  Professors — all  of  the  same  college  and 
University,  and  all  most  distinguished  in  their  several 


THE  TRIANGULAR   CONTEST  109 

capacities.  As  it  helps  to  show  that  the  Bacon-Shake- 
speare controversy  is  getting  beyond  the  range  of  vulgar 
abuse,  and  as  neither  the  irresponsible  pressmen  nor  the 
cocksure  experts  are  likely  for  their  own  reputation's 
sake  to  brand  Regius  Professors  as  fools  or  asses,  I  will 
give  names  and  titles  : — 

1.  Tyrrell,  Robert  Yelverton,   Regius  Professor  of  Greek, 

Dublin,  since  1880;  LittD.,  LL.D.,  D.C.L.,  Fellow  of 
Trin.  Coll.  Dubl,  Professor  of  Latin,  1871 ;  Gold  Medallist 
in  Philosophy  and  Classics. 

2.  DowDEN,  Edward,  Professor  of  English  Literature,  Dublin, 

since  1867  ;  Litt.D.,  LL.D.,  D.C.L.,  Clark  Lecturer  in 
English  Literature,  Trin.  Coll.  Camb.,  1893-96  ;  Editor  of 
Shakespeare's  Sonnets^  &c.  &c. 

3.  Webb,  Thomas  E.,  Regius  Professor  of  Law,  Dublin,   1867 ; 

Public  Orator,  1879;  Q.C.  (1874),  LL.D.,  Judge  of  the 
County  Court  of  Donegal,  and  Chairman  of  Donegal 
Quarter  Sessions  since  1887. 

In  the  triangular  duel.  No.  3  fired  the  first  shot  in 
his  Mystery  of  William  Shakespeare,  whereupon  No.  i, 
an  inveterate  theatre-goer  and  lover  of  the  drama,  and 
No.  2,  an  experienced  Shakespearian  critic,  at  once  got 
their  pistols  ready  and  firing  began  in  earnest. 

Professor  Tyrrell  (No.  i)  fired  off  three  columns  in 
The  Pilot  of  July  19,  1902,  finishing  thus  ;  "  I  would 
rather  believe  all  the  fables  of  the  Talmud  and  Alcoran 
than  that  the  author  of  the  Novum  Organum  was  the 
author  of  the  plays  and  poems  of  Shakespeare."  He  uses 
the  old  arguments,  and  uses  them  very  forcibly.  He 
says  that  Bacon  does  not  "  show  a  scintilla  of  that  humour 
with  which  Shakespeare  bubbles  and  boils  over.  Con- 
ceive for  a  moment  Bacon  as  the  creator  of  Falstaif, 
Shallow,  Dogberry,  the  gravedigger  in  Hamlet,  and 
Launcelot  Gobbo.  It  would  be  as  easy  to  imagine  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer  as  the  author  of  Pickwick. ^^ 

But  in  the  course  of  his  arguments  he  makes  an 
admission  which  cuts  the  ground  from  under  his  feet. 
He  thinks  that  "  no  candid  reader  can  refuse  to  admit " 
that  "  the  author  of  the  Plays  was  very  familiar  with 


no  PROGRESS   AND   PREJUDICE 

the  works  of  Bacon,  especially  the  Sylva  Sylvarum  and 
the  Natural  History,  which  were  not  published  till  after 
Shakespeare's  death."  He  admits  it  himself,  and  accounts 
for  such  an  extraordinary  miracle  of  literature  by  the 
theory  which  he  puts  forth.  "  There  is  no  reason  why 
Shakespeare  should  not  have  known  Bacon  just  as  he 
knew  the  Earls  of  Southampton  and  Pembroke."  So 
Judge  Webb's  coincidences  are  admitted,  but  they  only 
show  "  that  Shakespeare  had  access  to  the  works  of 
Bacon  years  before  they  were  published." 

Judge  Webb  (No.  3)  now  fires  his  shot  at  No.  i,  and 
wellnigh  disables  him  ;  for,  as  the  Judge  rightly  says, 
if  the  coincidences  between  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  are 
admitted,  then  the  strongest  existing  evidence  that  the 
Baconians  have  is  also  admitted,  and  that  is  quite  enough 
for  them. 

Meanwhile  Professor  Dowden  (No.  2)  has  fired  his 
shot,  and  has  shown  that  there  were  really  no  coinci- 
dences between  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  in  the  sense 
that  the  Baconians  required  for  their  argument.  Un- 
fortunately, this  shot  hit  his  own  Shakespearian  ally 
(No.  i),  and  in  The  Pilot  for  Aug.  30  Professor  Tyrrell 
(No.  i)  had  to  leave  the  field  as  best  he  could.  This  is 
how  he  does  it.  "  When  I  read  that  article  (Prof.  Dowden's 
shot)  I  would  gladly  have  recalled  my  paper  (his  shot), 
but  it  was  then  too  late.  I  am  not  versed  in  the  literature 
of  the  Shakespearian  era  (a  Litt.D. !),  and  I  assumed 
that  the  Baconisers  who  adduced  the  parallelisms  had 
satisfied  themselves  that  the  coincidences  were  peculiar 
to  the  writings  of  the  Philosopher  and  the  Poet.  Pro- 
fessor Dowden  showed  that  this  was  not  so.  .  .  .  Thus 
my  theories  were  completely  superseded,  and  the  one 
specious  argument  of  the  Baconisers  demolished.  ...  I, 
for  one,  have  now  said  my  last  word  on  the  Shakespeare- 
Bacon  question."  Exit  Professor  Tyrrell  badly  wounded 
by  each  of  the  other  combatants,  while  Professors  Dowden 
and  Webb  remain  on  the  field  still  fighting. 

I  am  not  a  duellist  on  the  field  of  the  Plays,  and 
therefore  shall  not  attempt  to  occupy  the  comer  of  the 


A  VESTED   INTEREST  ni 

triangle  left  vacant  by  Professor  Tyrrell.  But  if  my 
proofs  of  the  authorship  of  the  Poems  and  Sonnets  be 
allowed,  Professor  Dowden  will  be  in  a  hot  position. 

There  is  hardly  a  more  obstinate  or  difficult  critic  to 
convince  or  to  reason  with  than  the  thoroughly  ingrained 
scholar-critic  who  has  been  absorbing  the  traditional  and 
orthodox  views  of  any  subject  during  the  whole  course 
of  his  life.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  the  Shakespearian 
authorship  has  become  a  kind  of  "  vested  interest  "  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Enghsh-speaking  race,  and  we  all  know 
how  people  hang  on  per  fas  et  nefas  to  a  vested  interest. 
Critics  have  declared  the  "  Divine  William  "  to  be  the 
Eternal  Glory  of  the  British  race,  and  their  readers,  high 
and  low,  rich  and  poor,  one  with  another,  have  fully 
accepted  this  great  treasure  as  their  own  by  right  and  pre- 
scription ;  and  this  has  been  going  on  for  some  hundreds 
of  years.  Here  is  a  vested  interest  which  dates  back 
earlier  than  the  licence  of  the  oldest  public-house  in  the 
kingdom.     Can  we  be  surprised  that  people  fight  for  it  ? 

As  all  the  orthodox  Shakespearians  make  so  much  of 
Ben  Jonson's  testimony,  and  are  constantly  repeating 
that  "  it  settles  the  question,"  I  made  some  more  re- 
searches into  Ben's  life,  and  found  a  letter  of  his  addressed 
to  Lord  Salisbury  which  was  new  to  me.  Gifford  does 
not  mention  it  in  his  Life,  but  it  is  published  in  the 
Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic  Series,  1603  to  1610, 
London,  1857.  It  is  too  long  to  quote,  but  it  shows  that 
Ben  Jonson,  who,  when  he  wrote  this  letter,  was  a  Roman 
Catholic,  was  quite  willing  to  play  the  spy  and  informer 
among  his  fellow-Catholics,  and  covered  this  mean  and 
detestable  offer  by  the  plea  of  patriotism  justifying  it. 
And  what  made  him  turn  Roman  Catholic  ?  Well,  he 
was  in  prison,  and,  as  he  told  Drummond  afterwards, 
he  was  not  convinced,  but  he  "  took  the  priest's  word 
for  it."  But  why  should  he,  unless  he  was  to  get  some- 
thing by  doing  so  ?  If  so,  what  opinion  must  we  hold 
of  him  ?  Would  he  be  a  stickler  for  truth  persistently, 
no  matter  when  or  where  ?  Is  it  not  more  probable 
that  he  would  be  just  the  kind  of  man  who  would  be 


112  PROGRESS  AND   PREJUDICE 

easily  induced  by  Bacon  to  assent  to  a  suppressio  veri  if 
required  of  him.  As  for  Bacon,  no  one  who  has  any 
acquaintance  with  his  "  Life  and  Letters  "  would  venture 
to  deny  that  one  of  this  great  man's  favourite  literary 
devices  was  the  suppressio  vert  combined  with  the 
suggestio  falsi.  Instances  are  very  numerous,  but  one  of 
the  best  that  I  can  call  to  mind  now  is  in  a  letter  of  Jan. 
28,  1616,  when  the  King  had  asked  Bacon's  advice  re- 
garding the  attack  by  Coke  on  the  Lord  Chancellor's 
(Ellesmere)  jurisdiction  over  cases  decided  at  the  King's 
Bench.  Bacon  replied  :  "  I  do  think  it  most  necessary, 
seeing  there  is  some  bruit  abroad  that  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench  do  doubt  of  the  case,  that  it  should  not  be  treason, 
that  it  be  given  out  constantly,  and  yet  as  it  were  in 
secret,  and  so  a  fame  to  slide,  that  the  doubt  was  only 
upon  the  publication  in  that  it  was  never  published." 

Now,  I  hold  that  a  man  who  could  so  ingeniously 
advise  how  to  throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  and 
how  to  circulate  false  reports,  would  not  have  much  diffi- 
culty in  doing  the  same  in  the  case  of  the  first  foHo, 
and  would  do  it  with  greater  gusto  and  care,  as  it  was 
here  a  personal  matter.  What  I  wish  to  emphasise  is 
that  since  Ben  Jonson  and  Francis  Bacon  were  both 
wonderfully  shrewd  men,  and  held  the  peculiar  views  as  to 
truth  described  above,  we  should  not  reject  as  a  "  mon- 
strous impossibility "  the  view  that  between  them  they 
succeeded  in  deceiving  the  world  of  letters  as  to  the 
authorship  of  the  first  folio  for  several  hundred  years. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that  the  Dedication  and  Address 
over  the  signatures  of  Heminge  and  Condell,  fellow- 
actors  with  Shakespeare,  are  both  open  to  grave  suspicion 
and  serious  objections.  Here  too  we  cannot  marry  the 
style  to  the  men.  The  phraseology  differs  much  from 
what  we  should  expect  from  ordinary  actors.  It  has  been 
plausibly  suggested  by  such  high  authorities  as  the  Cam- 
bridge editors,  that  both  the  Dedication  and  the  Address 
may  have  been  written  by  some  literary  man  in  the  em- 
ployment of  the  publishers,  and  merely  signed  by  the 
two  players.    This  seems  probable  enough,  and  in  that 


LITERARY   CHICANERY  113 

case  I  should  suggest  Edward  Blount  as  a  very  likely 
man.  But  there  are  strong  internal  indications  of  a 
well-read  Latinist  and  good  classical  scholar,  which  seem 
to  point  beyond  these  ordinary  players  and  Blount  also, 
and  lead  us  to  think  rather  of  Ben  Jonson.  For  there  is 
a  curious  passage  concerning  "  country  hands  that  reach 
forth  milk  and  cream  and  fruits,"  that  is  evidently  taken 
from  the  dedicatory  epistle  to  Vespasian,  prefixed  to 
Pliny's  Natural  History,  and  is  an  independent  scholarly 
translation  such  as  we  might  expect  from  Jonson  rather 
than  any  one  else.  What  would  Heminge  and  Condell 
be  likely  to  know  of  such  a  passage  ?  Blount,  who  had 
a  fancy  for  dedications  and  prefaces,  might  have  come 
across  it  and  kept  it  for  his  own  future  use,  but  not  men 
like  Heminge  and  Condell.  Judge  Webb  mentions  this 
part  of  their  prefatory  matter  as  being  unlike  the  phrase- 
ology we  should  expect  from  them,  but  did  not  notice  the 
peculiar  classical  source  I  have  given  above,  although 
he  refers  to  another  passage  of  the  Address  which  he  re- 
gards as  conclusive  for  the  Jonsonian  authorship.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  I  claim  we  are  fully  entitled  to  say 
that  there  is  strong  evidence  of  some  literary  chicanery 
in  this  part  of  the  vestibule  of  the  first  folio,  where  Heminge 
and  Condell  give  their  signatures  and  evidence.  This 
being  so,  we  have  a  corroboration  of  the  literary  chicanery 
we  have  suspected  in  the  other  parts  of  this  famous 
vestibule,  and  it  becomes  much  easier  to  hold  the  opinion 
that  this  vestibule  was  originally  arranged  "  to  oblige 
Bacon  "  and  to  conceal  him.  That  is,  I  confess,  my  own 
conviction  on  this  debated  point,  and  I  rather  fancy  that 
Blount  and  Jaggard  were  mixed  up  with  it  as  well  as 
Jonson. 

Look  again  at  the  secret  of  the  "  Waverley  Novels." 
It  should  teach  us  a  lesson  surely.  There  were  several 
shrewd  guesses  at  the  right  author,  but  they  were  re- 
pressed somewhat  in  the  way  that  the  shrewd  Baconian 
suggestions  are  repressed.  People  were  hoodwinked  by 
what  was  considered  "  good  authority,"  and  this  lasted 
several  years.    The  Ettrick  Shepherd  says,  in  his  Auto- 

H 


114  PROGRESS   AND   PREJUDICE 

biography,  that  when  he  saw  certain  words  about  long 
and  short  sheep  used  near  the  beginning  of  The  Black 
Dwarf,  he  said  to  himself :  "  How  could  I  be  mistaken 
of  the  author  ?  It  is  true  Johnnie  Ballantyne  persuaded 
me  into  a  nominal  belief  of  the  contrary  for  several  years 
following,  but  I  could  never  get  the  better  of  that  and 
several  similar  coincidences."  For  Johnnie  Ballantyne 
read  Ben  Jonson,  and  we  have  the  veiy  kind  of  influence 
that  produces  nominal  belief  in  Shakespeare's  authorship. 
J.  B.  and  B.  J.  were  both  in  a  tale  for  throwing  dust  in 
the  eyes  of  the  inquisitive  and  curious  public,  and  both 
succeeded,  B.  J.  holding  his  tale  up  even  to  the  present 
day. 

But  why,  after  all,  are  Baconians  treated  so  discourte- 
ously? I  suppose  it  is  because  they  are  heretics,  and 
because  the  firm  believers  in  the  cult  of  the  "  Divine 
WiUiam  *'  do  actually  feel  that  their  higher  religious 
instincts  are  being  impudently  trifled  with.  Bacon  en- 
throned as  our  literary  Paragon  and  Deity  ?  Never ! 
'Tis  flat  blasphemy  as  ever  was  committed.  Away  with 
such  cranks !  nothing  is  too  bad  for  them !  I  am  re- 
minded of  a  famous  utterance  of  Dr.  Wace  (D.D.)  before 
the  Church  Congress  of  1888  :  "  It  is,"  he  said,  "  and  it 
ought  to  be,  an  unpleasant  thing  for  a  man  to  have  to 
say  plainly  that  he  does  not  believe  in  Jesus  Christ." 
Many  people  nowadays  seem  to  hold  the  same  views  as 
to  disbelief  in  Shakespeare,  and  the  attempts  to  dis- 
en throne  him  from  his  lofty  position.  Such  is  the 
view  of  the  more  ordinary  man  who  plods  to  his  work 
along  the  public  thoroughfares  of  our  cities  and  towns. 
He  knows  hardly  anything  of  the  subject,  and  cares  less. 
As  to  the  orthodox  Shakespearians  of  cultivated  tastes, 
the  heresy  is  to  them  "  literature  of  a  pecuHarty  unin- 
viting kind,"  as  they  often  say.  Naturally  so,  for  it 
upsets  all  their  past  ideas  on  the  subject ;  throws  ridicule 
on  all  their  beautiful  devotion  to  "  Sweetest  Shakespeare, 
Fancy's  child,"  and  the  "native  wood-notes  wild," 
which  they  fondly  imagined  he  had  learned  to  "  warble  " 
in  Warwickshire ;    and,  perhaps  worst  of  all,  leaves  one 


A   HINT   TO   ZOILUS  115 

of  their  special  shrines  positively  empty.  No  substituted 
image  can  fill  that  shrine,  for  it  is  against  human  nature 
to  blot  out  the  lifelong  devotion  that  has  been  bestowed 
on  one  great  literary  ideal,  and  then  to  transfer  it  restored 
to  another  idol  or  ideal  of  a  very  different  description. 

Appeals  to  Zoilus  are  quite  out  of  date  nowadays,  but 
I  will  frankly  say  this :  that,  if  any  slashing  critics  or 
snarling  cynics  try  to  make  matters  *'  unpleasant "  for  me, 
I  in  turn  will  suffer  them  gladly.  If  they  "grin  like  a 
dog  "  I  too  will  grin — and  bear  it. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

SOME   ORTHODOX   SHAKESPEARIANS   PUT   IN   THE 
WITNESS-BOX 

At  this  point  it  seems  only  fair  to  listen  to  the  Shake- 
spearians,  who,  no  doubt,  have  for  some  time  been  mutter- 
ing audi  alteram  partem.  I  will  therefore  now  put  Sir 
Theodore  Martin,  who  is  one  of  their  best  and  most 
courteous  and  amiable  witnesses,  into  the  box  and  report 
his  evidence.  It  is  also  to  be  read  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine  (1888).     He  says  : — 

"Have  they  (the  Baconians)  ever  tried  to  picture  to  them- 
selves what  was  the  position  of  an  actor  and  dramatic  writer  in  a 
theatre  of  those  days  ?  By  necessity  he  was  in  daily  communion 
with  some  of  the  sharpest  and  finest  intellects  of  the  time — men 
like  Marlowe,  Dekker,  Chapman,  Middleton,  Heywood,  Drayton, 
and  Ben  Jonson.  We  might  as  soon  believe  that  a  man  who  pre- 
tended that  he  had  written  Vanity  Fair  or  Esmond  could  have 
escaped  detection  in  the  society  of  Charles  Butler,  Tennyson, 
Venables,  or  James  Spedding,  as  that  Shakespeare  could  have 
passed  himself  off  as  the  author  even  of  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona  or  Love's  Labour's  Lost — we  purposely  name  two  of  his 
earliest  and  weakest  plays — or  that  any  of  that  brilliant  circle  of 
Elizabethan  poets  would  have  given  credit  for  ten  minutes  to  such 
a  man  as  the  Baconians  picture  Shakespeare  to  have  been  for  the 
capacity  to  construct  one  scene,  or  even  to  compose  ten  con- 
secutive lines  of  the  blank  verse — the  exquisite  blank  verse  which 
is  to  be  found  in  those  plays." 

This  is  excellently  put,  and  has  convinced  in  its  time 
thousands  of  sensible  people.  But  it  is  a  fallacious  argu- 
ment after  all.  We  have  no  reason  to  beheve  that 
Shakespeare  ever  did  manage  to  deceive  those  people 
who  were  in  the  best  position  to  judge.  I  do  not  think 
that  he  deceived  Ben  Jonson,  or  Greene,  or  Marston,  or 

tz6 


SIR  THEODORE   MARTIN  117 

Dekker,  or  Henslowe,  or  the  actors  of  his  own  company, 
for  one  moment.  They  knew  him  as  an  adapter  of  old 
plays,  and  no  doubt  he  could  from  his  stage  experience 
make  them  very  presentable  to  the  audience  ;  he  knew 
the  popular  taste,  and  had  a  "  facetious  grace  of  writing." 
This  I  think  we  must  allow  him.  It  was  the  saying  of 
an  impartial  contemporary,  and  there  is  no  reason  it 
should  not  be  accepted.  But  he  was  a  "  broker "  of 
plays,  and  either  bought  or  appropriated  other  people's 
feathers  to  add  to  his  own  natural  plumage.  If  those 
who  knew  charged  him  with  it,  it  did  not  seem  to  trouble 
him ;  he  "  slighted  "  it,*  and  took  it  all  in  the  day's  work, 
so  long  as  it  brought  him  money  and  success,  for  he  was 
a  careful  man,  with  a  good  eye  to  the  main  chance.  I 
think  he  was  generally  credited  with  the  poems  Venus 
and  Adonis  and  Lucrece,  and  very  likely  he  claimed  and 
maintained  his  authorship  there,  for  he  had  put  his  name 
to  the  dedication ;  and  there  may  have  been  other 
reasons  why  he  should  do  this,  reasons  best  known  to 
Bacon,  Southampton,  and  himself.  But  I  maintain,  as 
against  Sir  Theodore  Martin's  apparently  weighty  argu- 
ment, that  his  contemporaries,  who,  from  their  position 
and  relation  to  him,  ought  to  know,  were  not  deceived, 
nor  did  Shakespeare  try  to  deceive  them.  Shakespeare 
as  the  promoter  and  producer  to  the  public  of  a  number 
of  popular  and  successful  plays.  They  were  pirated  and 
printed  without  his  collaboration  and  without  his  autho- 
rity. Some  had  his  name  put  to  them,  and  some  had 
not.  He  did  not  trouble  much,  so  long  as  the  money 
came  in  to  the  theatre,  and  possibly  there  was  a  private 
arrangement  with  the  real  "  inventor,"  who  did  not  care 
to  be  publicly  associated  with  them.  A  new  play  was 
acted  by  his  company ;  he  was  known  to  be  the  active 
factotum,  and  so,  when  successful  and  put  in  print  by  the 
speculative  booksellers,  it  was  attributed  to  him — often, 
too,  when  it  was  not  his  at  all.  He  was  no  dunce,  and 
had  sufficient  natural  quickness  and  flow  of  language 

*  I   assume   that   Ben    Jonson's   "  Poet-Ape "   was   Shakespeare.      The 
evidence  seems  very  strong  to  me. 


ii8     SHAKESPEARIANS  IN  THE  WITNESS-BOX 

and  facetious  grace  to  impress  outsiders,  and  people  who 
were  not  great  critics  (as  Ben  Jonson  really  was),  that  he 
was  quite  equal  to  producing  the  marvellous  beauties  of 
Hamlet,  Lear,  and  the  rest,  because  for  one  reason  they 
were  not  at  that  time  perceived  to  be  such  marvellous 
creations  as  the  verdict  of  after  ages  has  decreed. 

But  enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  Sir  Theodore's 
argument  is  not  by  any  means  so  convincing  as  it  at  first 
appears  to  be.  However,  let  us  now  hear  another 
champion  on  the  Shakespearian  side.  Allow  me  to  intro- 
duce Professor  Alfred  Russel  Wallace,  a  man  of  the 
keenest  and  most  original  intellect,  an  LL.D.  and  F.R.S., 
a  competitor  with  Darwin  for  the  honour  of  discovering 
Natural  Selection,  and  one  of  the  sanest  defenders  of 
modem  Spiritualism  in  the  matter  of  its  evidential  proof 
that  we  have  had  in  this  country.  The  occasion  of  his 
testimony  was  this.  The  Arena,  a  high-class  American 
periodical,  some  years  ago  invited  the  opinions  and  verdict 
of  distinguished  men  on  the  Shakespeare-Bacon  problem. 
I  need  hardly  say  that  the  general  result  was  an  almost 
unanimous  verdict  for  Shakespeare.  As  the  Arena  is  not 
much  known  in  England,  and  as  Professor  Wallace  gave 
stronger  reasons,  perhaps,  than  any  one  else,  they  may 
suitably  find  a  place  here. 

"  When  we  are  asked  to  believe  that  the  whole  of  the  plays 
and  poems  attributed  to  Shakespeare  were  not  written  by  him, 
but  by  Lord  Bacon,  we  naturally  require  evidence  of  the  most 
convincing  kind.  It  must  be  shown  either  that  Bacon  did 
actually  write  them,  or  that  Shakespeare  could  not  possibly  have 
written  them,  in  which  latter  case  somebody  else  must  have 
done  so ;  and  we  then  demand  proof  that  Bacon  could  possibly, 
and  did  probably  write  them. 

"First,  then,  is  there  any  good  evidence  that  Bacon  did 
write  them  ?  Positively  none  whatever  :  only  a  number  of  vague 
hints  and  suggestions  which  might  perhaps  add  some  weight  to 
an  insufficient  amount  of  direct  testimony,  but  in  its  absence  are 
entirely  valueless ;  and  then  we  have  the  enormous,  the  over- 
whelming improbability,  that  any  man  would  write,  and  allow  to 
be  published  or  acted,  so  wonderful  a  series  of  poems  and  plays, 


PROFESSOR  A.   R.   WALLACE  119 

while  another  man  received  all  the  honour  and  all  the  profits ; 
and  though  surviving  that  man  for  ten  years,  that  the  real  author 
never  made  the  slightest  claim  to  them,  never  confided  the 
secret  to  a  single  friend,  and  died  without  a  word  or  a  sign  to 
show  that  he  had  any  part  or  share  in  them.  To  most  persons 
this  consideration  alone  will  be  conclusive  against  Bacon's 
authorship. 

"  The  reasons  for  Shakespeare  not  being  able  to  write  them 
are  weak  in  the  extreme.     They  amount  to  this  : 

1.  He  had  no  University  education. 

2.  His  early  associates  were  mostly  illiterate. 

3.  No  single  letter  or  MS.  exists  in  his  writing. 

"  But  '  transcendent  genius '  is  sufficient  to  remove  all  such 
difficulties.  Moreover,  he  lived  near  to  the  lordly  castles  of 
Warwick  and  Kenilworth,  and  'at  times  of  festivity  such  castles 
were  open  house,  and  at  all  times  would  be  accessible  through 
the  friendship  of  servants  or  retainers ;  and  thus  it  may  be  that 
Shakespeare  acquired  some  portion  of  that  knowledge  of  the 
manners  and  speech  of  nobles  and  kings  which  appears  in  the 
historical  plays.' 

"  The  endearing  terms  applied  to  him  by  his  London  friends 
after  he  had  left  Stratford  show  he  was  an  attractive  personality, 
and  we  may  therefore  infer  he  was  acceptable  in  many  grades  of 
society.  The  law-courts  were  open ;  he  would  there  have  ample 
opportunities  of  getting  that  knowledge  displayed  in  the  plays ; 
and  as  for  French  and  Spanish,  he  could  easily  pick  up  from  his 
travelled  friends  or  from  foreign  visitors  enough  for  his  purpose. 

"Lastly,  putting  Shakespeare  out  of  the  way,  could  Bacon 
have  written  the  plays,  &c.  ?  No ;  the  man  who  wrote  the 
Essays  on  '  Love '  and  *  Marriage,'  and  did  not  allow  one  spark 
of  love  or  sentiment  to  appear  in  them,  could  not  possibly  have 
conceived  and  delineated  such  characters  as  Portia,  Juliet, 
Imogen,  and  a  score  of  others,  not  to  speak  of  the  'pouring 
forth  of  the  soul '  in  the  Sonnets. 

"  Never,  surely,  was  there  so  utterly  baseless  a  claim  as  that 
made  by  the  advocates  of  Bacon  against  Shakespeare. 

"  A.  R.  Wallace. 

"  Verdict  for  the  defendant — Shakespeare." 

This  verdict  is  given  as  strongly  and  as  tersely  as  the 
most  devoted  Shakespearian  could  wish.  As  the  reader 
has  already  seen,  and  will,  I  hope,  continue  to  see  further 


I20     SHAKESPEARIANS  IN  THE  WITNESS-BOX 

on,  I  do  not  leave  such  arguments  unconsidered.  There- 
fore I  will  now  simply  refer  to  the  argument  of  the  Pro- 
fessor that  Bacon  was  not  the  man  to  "  conceive  or 
delineate  such  characters  as  Portia,  Juliet,  Imogen,"  nor 
yet  the  man  to  pour  forth  his  soul  in  the  Sonnets.  At 
first  sight  the  argument  seems  insuperable,  and  the 
incongruity  of  such  a  philosophical  and  serious  brain  as 
that  of  Bacon  evolving  the  marvellous  lovers'  ecstasies  of 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  together  with  the  pure,  graceful,  bright 
and  lovable  maidens  that  meet  us  in  the  various  plays, 
must  seem  to  most  people  so  enormous  and  so  insuperable 
that  it  is  to  some  extent  an  excuse  for  the  unrestrained 
language  they  use  to  those  who  think  differently. 

No,  Bacon  was  most  distinctly  not  the  kind  of  man 
we  should  credit  with  the  creation  of  a  Juliet,  a  Portia, 
a  Beatrice,  or  a  Rosalind.  I  admit  the  statement  and 
agree  with  Professor  Wallace's  remarks  on  this  point,  but 
I  would  add  a  saving  clause.  I  would  say,  "  Bacon  is 
impossible,  as  we  know  him.''^  In  his  mature  life  Bacon 
is  known  to  the  world  of  culture  as  a  deep-thinking  and 
far-reaching  philosopher,  a  most  wise  and  suggestive 
essayist,  a  sane,  serious,  sober-minded  man,  and  apparently 
somewhat  of  a  misogynist  and  a  time-server.  But  what 
of  his  youthful  days,  when  he  was  in  the  heyday  of  spring 
and  of  "  sportive  blood  "  ;  what  of  the  time  before  he 
was  on  the  shady  side  of  thirty-five  or  forty ;  how  much 
do  the  best  of  us,  or  even  the  wellnigh  omniscient 
Spedding,  know  intimately  of  his  inner  life  and  emotional 
feelings  then  ?  He  did  not  publish  anything  with  his 
name  of  much  importance  till  his  Essays  in  1598,  when 
he  was  nearly  forty  years  old,  and  his  greater  works  were 
reserved  till  he  was  nearly  sixty.  Are  we  to  judge  his 
natural  bias  and  his  emotional  instincts  solely  by  such 
records  as  are  left  us  in  this  way  ?  Maturity  is  not  often 
wont  to  lay  bare  the  secrets  and  follies  of  its  undisciplined 
and  inexperienced  youth  ;  nay,  rather  it  is  apt  to  conceal 
or  obscure  themx.  Moreover,  his  Essays  on  Love  and 
Marriage  were  not  in  the  first  edition  of  1598,  and  did 
not  appear  till  1612,  when  Bacon  was  over  fifty,  and  were 


BACON  ON   LOVE  121 

not  finally  put  into  shape  till  1625,  when  he  was  sixty- 
four.  We  must  not  expect  the  exuberance  and  florid 
rhetoric  of  the  tender  passion  at  such  ages  of  life ;  but 
among  much  excellent  advice  we  get  this  :  "  Nuptial 
Love  maketh  mankind ;  Friendly  Love  perfecteth  it ; 
but  Wanton  Love  corrupteth  and  imbaseth  it." 

In  the  friendly  love  that  is  the  perfection  of  the  great 
passion,  may  there  not  be  a  reminiscence  of  the  ardours 
of  the  Sonnets  ?  Anyhow,  the  Siren  is  there  in  the  essay 
(cf.  "  What  potions  have  I  drunk  of  Siren  tears  ? " 
Sonnet  cxix.),  and  Marcus  Antonius  too,  the  hero  of 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  ;  and  he  is  the  only  lover  named 
in  the  essay  except  Appius  Claudius,  the  Decemvir.  And 
so  I  say  to  Professor  Wallace  and  all  who  rely  on  this 
apparently  invincible  argument,  "  Be  not  too  dogmatic 
concerning  that  portion  of  Bacon's  life  and  history  of 
which  we  know  so  little  intimately  ;  your  invincible  argu- 
ment may  after  all  be  nothing  but  invincible  ignorance." 

And  after  all,  what  are  Juliet,  Beatrice,  or  Miranda, 
but  creations  of  the  fine  human  intellect  which  a  genius 
can  throw  off  from  himself  into  space,  and  then  embody 
them,  so  to  speak,  in  the  domain  of  the  intellectual  and 
literary  world  ;  but  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that 
they  represent  any  actual  analogies  to  the  personal  char- 
acter of  the  genius  who  created  them.  Just  as  a  man 
"  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain,"  so,  I  suppose, 
an  author  may  produce  the  sublimest  and  purest  con- 
ceptions of  the  human  mind  without  being  so  very  sublime 
and  pure  in  his  own  personal  and  intimate  life.  A  man's 
lofty  conceptions,  and  pure  aspirations,  do  not  necessarily 
find  a  counterpart  in  himself.  "  Colonel  Newcome  "  is 
a  beautiful  conception,  a  fine  character,  but  I  don't 
suppose  that  Thackeray  much  resembled  him. 

Besides  this,  the  emotional,  the  sensual,  and  the  spiri- 
tual natures  of  men  and  women,  be  they  great  or  small, 
vary  considerably  at  different  stages  of  their  life.  Look  at 
Milton,  for  instance,  and  compare  him  in  youth  and  middle 
age,  in  regard  to  his  expressed  views  on  the  master  pas- 
sion love  and  the  fair  sex  generally.     If  ever  there  was  a 


122     SHAKESPEARIANS  IN  THE  WITNESS-BOX 

chaste,  serious,  and  self-respecting  man,  a  severe  student 
delighting  in  books,  Milton  was  that  man,  and  yet  in  the 
heyday  of  youthful  emotion,  and  in  the  spring  of  life, 
what  does  he  tell  us  of  his  first  love,  that  girl  he  met, 
above  and  surpassing  all  her  accompanying  troop,  on 
that  long-remembered  May  Day  in  1628,  when  he  was 
but  nineteen  ?  Then  it  was  that  Dan  Cupid  drew  his 
bow  at  a  venture  and  smote  the  unsuspecting  youth  and 
pierced  his  unguarded  breast : 

"  Nee  mora  ;  nunc  ciliis  haesit,  nunc  virginis  ori, 
Insilit  hinc  labiis,  insidet  inde  genis  ; 
Et  quascunque  agilis  partes  jaculator  oberrat, 
Hei  mihi  !  mille  locis  pectus  inerme  ferit ;" 

which  Cowper  translates  unapproachably, 

"  [With  .  .  .  quiver  at  his  side,] 
Now  to  her  lips  he  clung,  her  eyelids  now. 
Then  settled  on  her  cheeks,  or  on  her  brow, 
And  with  a  thousand  wounds  from  every  part 
Pierced  and  transpierced  my  undefended  heart. 
A  fever,  new  to  me,  of  fierce  desire 
Now  seized  my  soul,  and  I  was  all  on  fire." 

But  later  on  in  life,  in  1645,  when  Milton  was  approach- 
ing forty,  he  would  not  put  in  print  his  youthful  effusion 
without  a  demurrer  or  antidote,  and  so  he  appends  his 
altered  views  when  he  was  more  matured,  in  the  follow- 
ing fashion  : 

"  Such  were  the  trophies  that  in  earlier  days, 
By  vanity  seduced,  I  toiled  to  raise, 
Studious,  yet  indolent,  and  urged  by  youth, 
That  worst  of  teachers  !  from  the  ways  of  truth  : 
Till  learning  taught  me  in  his  shady  bow'r. 
To  quit  love's  servile  yoke,  and  spurn  his  pow'r." 

And  why  may  not  this  have  been  young  Francis 
Bacon's  case  as  well  ?  When  that  fair  Adonis,  that 
eminent  *'  child  of  state,"  the  attractive  young  Earl  of 
Southampton,  came  up  about  the  year  1590  to  be  the 
young  cherub  of  Gray's  Inn,  what  more  likely  than 
that  a  "  fever  of  fierce  desire  "  should  seize  the  soul  of 
that  more  experienced  and  naturally  sensitive  member 


BACON'S   EARLY   LEVITY  123 

of  [the  same  Society,  Francis  Bacon?  with  whom,  as 
we  know,  an  early  and  long-continued  intimacy  sprung 
up.  Some  of  the  Shake-speare  Sonnets  show  us,  as  only 
impassioned  poetry  can,  a  soul  that  was  "  all  on  fire," 
and  the  Cupid  that  supplied  the  torch  is  generally  ad- 
mitted to  be  this  same  young  Earl.  Does  it  not  seem 
more  probable  that  the  author  of  these  Sonnets  was  one 
who  was  fitted  by  birth,  position  at  Gray's  Inn,  and 
opportunities  of  many  kinds  to  enter  into  an  ardent  and 
romantic  attachment  to  his  young  friend  —  all  which 
qualifications  are  fulfilled  to  the  letter  in  Francis  Bacon 
— rather  than  the  bourgeois  lad  from  the  country,  William 
Shakespeare,  who  had  about  this  time  just  risen  from 
the  stable-yard  of  old  Burbage  to  do  hack-work  with  old 
plays,  and  was  perhaps  honoured  sometimes  with  the  role 
of  the  original  Ghost  in  the  Ur-Hamlet  of  Thomas  Kyd, 
which  used  to  cry  out,  to  the  terror  of  the  penny  and 
twopenny  sections  of  the  audience,  "  Hamlet,  revenge." 

Bacon,  like  Milton,  became  devoted  to  more  serious 
matters  as  life  rolled  on,  and  put  aside  the  ecstasies  and 
fancies,  the  "  watching  and  pursuing  the  light  that  lies 
in  woman's  eyes,"  and  that  friendship  for  youth  which 
he  thought  at  one  time  to  be  the  perfecting  of  love. 
Those  spring  days  had  passed.  For  "  one  hour  "  at  least 
he  had  enjoyed  spring's  most  glorious  sun  ;  but  now  the 
autumn  had  come,  and  he  sat  and  thought  (sic  sedebat), 
and  possessed  with  a  philanthropy  for  his  race  and  for 
posterity,  he  devised  his  new  schemes  of  Philosophy  and 
Natural  Science,  and  left  them  and  the  other  works  of 
his  invention  that  he  had  devised  in  a  "  despised  weed  " 
for  the  good  of  all  men,  and  for  future  ages.  From  what 
Sir  Thomas  Bodley  said  about  Bacon  in  later  life,  we 
may  almost  infer  that  Bacon  had  wasted  (according  to 
the  Bodley  view  of  the  matter)  much  of  his  youth  in 
frivolous  literary  work,  such  as  plays  and  interludes, 
which  Sir  Thomas  rigorously  excluded  from  his  famous 
Library. 

Once  more,  then,  and  finally,  the  argument  that  Bacon 
could  not  possibly  have  depicted  the  love  scenes  and 


124    SHAKESPEARIANS  IN  THE  WITNESS-BOX 

Das  Ewig-W eihliche  of  the  Plays  does  not  seem  an  in- 
vincible one. 

I  will  next  introduce  one  of  the  most  experienced 
Shakespearians  we  have  amongst  us,  as  far  as  practical 
exposition  is  concerned — I  mean,  of  course.  Sir  Henry 
Irving. 

He  has  just  been  delivering  the  "  Trask  "  lecture  at 
Princeton  University  (March  1902),  and  he  took  the 
Bacon-Shakespeare  question  for  his  subject.  He  ap- 
proached the  matter  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  actor 
mainly,  taking  up  two  principal  points.  First,  is  it  con- 
ceivable that  Shakespeare's  contemporaries  would  have 
allowed  him  to  masquerade  in  borrowed  plumes  ?  Even 
as  it  w£LS,  Robert  Greene  was  jealous  of  him,  and  called 
him  "  the  upstart  crow  beautified  with  our  feathers." 
Greene  would  have  been  only  too  glad  to  expose  Shake- 
speare, had  there  been  anything  to  expose.  Secondly,  it 
is  equally  as  inconceivable  that  Bacon  wrote  the  Plays, 
as  that  Shakespeare  did  not  write  them.  They  are  the 
work  of  a  practical  playwright,  conversant  with  all  the 
business  of  the  actor ;  and  Bacon  is  not  known  to  have 
had  any  knowledge  of  the  stage.  "  If,"  said  Sir  Henry, 
"  you  have  not  studied  the  art  of  writing  for  the  stage, 
you  will  never  write  a  good  play." 

I  must  say  I  am  astounded  at  the  inaccurate  state- 
ments which  the  newspapers  have  here  given  to  Sir  Henry, 
and  would  hope  that  he  has  been  incorrectly  reported. 
Surely  all  who  have  only  read  a  little  way  into  the  sub- 
ject know  that  (i)  Shakespeare  was  charged  over  and 
over  again  at  the  time  with  patching  up  old  plays,  with 
dressing  himself  up  for  the  public  in  borrowed  plumes, 
and  for  "  brokerage  "  or  buying  literary  property  from 
outsiders  ;  and  that  (2)  Bacon  was  known  to  be  well 
acquainted  with  the  practical  work  of  getting  up  masques 
and  plays  at  Gray's  Inn,  and  was,  to  his  mother's  sorrow, 
a  frequenter  and  lover  of  the  theatre. 

The  Glohe  newspaper,  commenting  favourably  on  Sir 
Henry,  goes  a  step  further  than  the  lecture,  by  stating 
that  when  Shakespeare   "  employed  legal  terms,   he  is 


KEATS   NO   PARALLEL   CASE  125 

often  wrong,"  and  that  "  it  is,  in  short,  abundantly  clear 
that  the  author  was  not  a  lawyer." 
To  which  we  can  only  say  : 

"  O  ye  chorus  of  indolent  reviewers. 
Irresponsible,  indolent  reviewers." 

Next  take  this  good  leading  trump  card  from  the 
other  side  :  "  Keats,  though  minus  education  in  Greek, 
yet  through  the  genius  within  him  caused  his  poetry  to 
be  saturated  with  the  spirit  of  Greek  mythology ;  and 
shall  we  deny  to  Shakespeare  a  similar  transmuting 
power  of  genius,  even  on  the  assumption  of  a  limited 
Latin  scholarship  ?  " 

I  do  not  know  who  first  said  this,  but  it  has  been 
often  repeated,  and  with  most  Shakespearians  decies 
repetita  placehit.  I  admit  its  prima  facie  force  and 
congruity,  but  fortunately  we  know  much  more  about 
young  Keats  than  about  young  Shakespeare  of  Stratford. 
Therefore  let  us,  for  the  sake  of  comparison,  hear  what 
is  known  of  Keats.  He  was  sent  in  his  eighth  year  to  a 
school  of  excellent  repute  kept  by  John  Clarke  at  Enfield. 
He  gained  the  friendship  of  Charles  Cowden  Clarke,  the 
master's  son,  and  an  usher  of  the  school,  and  during  his 
last  two  years  the  love  of  study  so  seized  him  that  he 
could  be  hardly  torn  from  his  books,  not  only  winning 
all  the  literary  prizes  of  the  school,  but  devouring  during 
play-hours  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands  on,  especially 
classical  mythology.  He  carried  away  from  school  a  fair 
knowledge  of  Latin,  and  apparently  a  little  knowledge 
of  French,  which  he  afterwards  improved.  He  made 
plenty  of  spare  time  for  himself  in  his  teens  and  after- 
wards, and  relinquished  the  profession  of  surgery  and 
medicine  for  more  congenial  pursuits.  He  had  many 
talented  friends  to  stimulate  him.  Books  were  within  his 
reach,  to  be  consulted  at  pleasure. 

Now  compare  Keats'  works,  their  author  being  thus 
favourably  handicapped,  with  Shakespeare's  works.  I 
can  see  neither  wide  learning  nor  philosophical  knowledge 
in  Keats,  but  I  can  see  both  in  Shakespeare.  I  can  see 
in  Keats'  works  how  he  was  enabled  by  his  innate  genius 


126      SHAKESPEARIANS  IN  THE  WITNESS-BOX 

to  "  build  the  lofty  rhyme  "  and  to  produce  most  ex- 
quisite flowers  of  the  finest  poetry,  from  the  groundwork, 
so  to  speak,  of  Lempriere  and  the  current  treatises  on 
mythology,  thoroughly  mastered  by  a  willing  and  inter- 
ested reader.  But  when  I  see  this  splendid  result,  I  do 
not  view  it  as  a  miracle,  or  the  man  himself  as  stupor 
mundi.  His  natural  genius  and  the  special  tendency  of 
his  mind  would  be  sufficient,  without  a  miracle. 

But  how  very  different  in  the  case  of  Shakespeare. 
We  do  not  know  much  about  his  educational  advantages ; 
but,  taking  the  most  favourable  view,  they  could  hardly  be 
superior  to  those  that  were  afforded  to  Keats.  And  yet 
where  can  there  be  found  a  man  of  wider,  and,  as  a  rule, 
more  accurate  knowledge,  or  of  a  greater  vocabulary,  or 
of  a  more  beautiful  or  philosophical  way  of  using  it  ? 

Genius  can  do  much,  but  it  is  far  from  being  able  to 
make  a  man  omnibus  numeris  absolutus,  or  "  complete  " 
in  the  sense  that  Shakespeare  was.  Genius  alone  can 
undoubtedly  lift  a  man  to  a  purer  and  a  larger  aether 
than  ordinary  mortals  can  breathe  in.  Instances  are 
numerous  enough  in  the  annals  of  many  a  cottage  home 
and  lowly  birthplace,  but  these  self-same  favoured  mortals, 
even  if,  as  with  Milton,  they  could  hope  to  soar 

"  Above  the  flight  of  Pegasean  wing," 

still  would  soon  find  that  their  wings  of  genius  are  sadly 
clipped,  confined,  and  weakened  unless  they  are  taught 
to  rise  and  fly  by  the  knowledge  that  is  in  books  and  by 
the  varied  wisdom  that  has  descended  from  the  ages  of 
the  past.  Without  these  helps  they  may  indeed  rise 
somewhat  from  the  brute  earth  of  ordinary  humanity, 
but  they  will  never  be  able  to  make  those  glorious  circling 
swoops  in  the  lofty  "  circumambient  air  "  which  are  ever 
the  wonder  of  the  earth-bound  crowd  below,  the  marvel 
of  an  admiring  world. 

Such  an  ever-living  stupor  mundi  is  Shakespeare — but 
not  Keats,  nor  yet  Burns,  nor  James  Ferguson,  as  Notes 
and  Queries  would  suggest  when  their  critic  remarks, 
"It  is  only  in  degree  that  Shakespeare  is  more  of  a 


HAD   BACON   HUMOUR?  127 

miracle  than  Bums  or  than  James  Ferguson."  I  cannot 
accept  such  a  statement  as  this.  The  miracle  of  the 
Shakespeare  Works  is  a  different  kind  of  miracle  from 
that  of  Bums,  or  Ferguson,  or  Keats.  Theirs  is  really 
after  all  no  miracle,  for  they  only  went  where  their 
genius  led  them.  But  Shakespeare  went  where  no 
natural  genius  ever  did  or  ever  could  lead  a  man,  and 
that  is  the  miracle  we  are  asked  to  believe.  Put  Bacon 
in  Shakespeare's  place,  the  miracle  disappears  and  a 
much  easier  problem  awaits  us.  And  as  it  is  a  good 
standing  rule,  both  in  theology  and  common  sense,  that 
we  should  never  multiply  miracles  if  we  can  by  any  possi- 
bility find  other  explanations  of  a  fairly  satisfactory  kind, 
I  adopt  the  rule  and  accept  Bacon  until  the  other  side 
give  me  a  downright  miracle  to  swallow  in  his  case,  and 
then  he  must  go  too,  for  miracles  do  not  happen  now 
either  in  the  literary  or  physical  worlds.  But  I  must 
have  a  real  miracle,  better  than  any  they  have  on  their 
books  at  present. 

I  once  had  the  privilege  of  a  short  casual  conversation 
with  one  of  the  most  distinguished  Shakespearian  scholars 
that  England  possesses.  The  Bacon  theory  being  men- 
tioned tentatively,  I  well  remember  his  curt  and  decisive 
reply  :  "  Absurd  !  Why,  Bacon  never  wrote  a  humorous 
line  in  his  life.'*  At  the  time,  coming  as  it  did  vivd  voce 
from  such  an  authority,  it  appeared  to  me  very  convincing, 
and  for  a  moment  or  two  I  seemed  to  feel  certain  that 
whatever  Bacon  wrote,  he  did  not  write  the  humours  of 
Sir  John  Falstaff.  Even  still  I  often  feel  inclined  to 
credit  the  Stratford  man  with  some  of  the  incidents  and 
characters  in  the  Falstaff  plays.  But  the  great  critic's 
casual  remark  was  not  so  strong  as  it  sounds  ;  for,  allow- 
ing the  assertion  to  be  accurate,  there  still  remains  plenty 
of  evidence  that  Bacon  was  a  natural  humorist,  and  very 
fond  of  indulging  his  vein.  Ben  Jonson,  best  of  con- 
temporary witnesses,  declared:  "His  (Francis  Bacon's) 
language,  when  he  could  spare,  or  pass  by,  a  jest,  was  hotly 
censorious  ;  "  and  Dr.  Abbott,  one  of  the  best  of  Bacon's 
modem  biographers,  said  :   "If  Francis  owed  his  energy 


128     SHAKESPEARIANS  IN   THE  WITNESS-BOX 

to  his  mother,  he  was  probably  indebted  to  his  father  for 
his  placid  self-control  and  his  rich  humour.''''  Such  re- 
marks discount  considerably  the  value  of  the  statement 
that,  for  the  moment,  rather  nonplussed  me. 

I  could  go  on  and  fill  many  pages  with  amusing  and 
ridiculous  extracts  from  the  books  and  pamphlets  of  the 
privates,  camp-followers,  and  facetious  buffoons  of  the 
orthodox  army.  But  it  would  take  up  too  much  space, 
and  would  not  strengthen  my  own  case,  which  is  the  main 
object  to  strive  for.  They  spare  not  invective,  they  seem 
to  think  us  all  lunatics,  and  call  us  all  the  ridiculous 
names  they  can  invent.  I  wish  some  one  would  invent 
one  for  them.  When  modem  critics  call  the  Bacon-Shake- 
speare theory  a  craze  of  semi-educated  people,  and  a 
theory  that  is  absolutely  irrational,  one  hardly  knows  by 
what  nickname  to  hit  off  such  people.  They  certainly 
deserve  one,  and  one  that  would  stick  to  them.  Perhaps 
some  sympathetic  reader  will  supply  one. 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE  PROOFS  OF  BACONIAN  AUTHORSHIP  AS  DEDUCED  FROM 
THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  THREE  PROMINENT  ELIZABETHAN 
EARLS — SOUTHAMPTON,   PEMBROKE,  AND  ESSEX 

Having  thus,  for  a  change,  heard  some  of  the  best  Shake- 
spearian champions  in  their  own  words,  let  us  proceed 
with  our  own  case. 

Our  next  piece  of  evidence  will  depend  upon  three 
celebrated  English  noblemen — Henry  Wriothesley,  Earl 
of  Southampton,  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and 
the  unfortunate  favourite  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  Robert 
Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex.  These  three  men,  of  the 
highest  aristocracy  of  the  land,  were  all  on  terms  of 
special  intimacy  with  Francis  Bacon.  That  is  an  historical 
fact  which  is  not  disputed,  and  does  not  admit  of  dispute. 

It  is  also  said  that  the  first  two  noblemen  were  most 
closely  bound  by  friendship  and  patronage  to  William 
Shakespeare,  the  poet-actor  and  part  shareholder  and 
manager  of  the  Globe  Theatre,  and  that  the  third  noble- 
man was  also,  though  more  slightly,  connected  both  with 
the  Globe  Theatre  and  its  plays.  But  these  latter  in- 
timacies with  the  actor-manager,  which  are  of  prime  neces- 
sity for  the  Shakespearian  orthodox  theory,  have  been  much 
disputed  in  the  near  past,  and  are  being  more  strongly 
challenged  every  day  in  the  present,  and  their  force  as  an 
historical  fact  is  being  slowly  but  surely  weakened. 

The  Bacon-Shakespeare  controversy  will  revolve  more 
and  more  round  these  three  historic  personages,  so  it 
seems  to  me.  The  future  battlefield  for  the  literary 
combatants  will  be  the  ground  of  the  Sonnets  and  the 
Poems,  and  especially  the  respective  territories  (or 
counties)  of  Pembroke,  Southampton,  and  Essex. 

Strange  to  say,  neither  Southampton  nor  Pembroke 
129  I 


I30       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

occurs  in  the  index  of  what  is  perhaps  the  most  convincing 
and  important  work  of  the  whole  controversy — a  work  of 
which  the  seventh  edition  revised  (1897)  is  now  lying 
before  me,  I  mean  "  Bacon  versus  Shakespeare,^^  by  Edwin 
Reed,  member  of  the  Shakespeare  Society  of  New  York 
(pp.  xxiv-296).  But  I  hope  to  show  now  that  these 
names,  and  their  connection  with  the  history  and  lives  of 
Bacon  and  Shakespeare,  are  of  the  utmost  importance 
as  throwing  light  on  the  real  author  of  the  Sonnets  and 
Poems  and  thence  by  inference  of  the  Plays  as  well. 

First,  let  us  collect  in  as  compact  a  bundle  as  possible 
the  evidences  and  inferences  that  Shakespearians  have 
given  us  (fas  est  et  ah  hoste  doceri)  of  these  young  noble- 
men and  their  connection  with  the  Sonnets.  I  assume, 
in  agreement  with  the  most  eminent  Shakespearian 
critics,  that  the  Sonnets  contain  a  partial  autobiography 
of  their  writer,  and  I  think  I  am  justified  in  so  doing.  To 
take  a  merely  sjmibolical,  allegorical,  or  idealistic  view  of 
the  Sonnets  leads  us  anywhere  or  rather  nowhere,  and  is 
contradicted  very  plainly  by  the  author  accusing  him- 
self of  scandals  and  misdemeanours,  a  thing  unheard  of 
and  without  a  parallel  in  this  ethereal  kind  of  literature. 
To  make  somewhat  plainer  this  strange  alternative  theory 
of  the  Sonnets,  I  will  quote  a  letter  which  one  of  these 
expositors  has  quite  recently  (March  22,  1902)  written  to 
The  Speaker  : — 

"  In  the  Sonnets  the  ideal  of  Beauty,  Truth,  and  Love,  as  an 
operative  'grace'  (so  the  poet  calls  it)  manifesting  itself  in  his 
art,  life,  and  love,  is  by  him  identified  with  his  spirit  or  higher 
and  truer  self,  and  at  the  same  time  with  the  All  of  Nature. 
Thus  Shakespeare  in  the  Sonnets  figures  as  one  with  the  Ideal 
or  Spirit,  and  the  All  of  Nature." 

If  we  wish  to  discover  the  real  author,  we  shall  have  to 
tread  on  firmer  ground  than  this.     I  think  we  can. 

To  begin  with,  we  may  state,  as  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge  now,  that  the  great  majority  of  the  mysterious 
Shakespeare  Sonnets  are  addressed  to  a  high-born  and 
beautiful  young  man,  apparently  a  mere  lad  when  some 


MR.    HERAUD'S   OPINION!  131 

of  them  were  written.  The  smaller  number  of  Sonnets 
are  addressed,  or  have  reference  to  a  woman,  generally 
known  by  critics  as  the  Dark  Lady  of  the  Sonnets.  "  A 
woman  coloured  ill,"  a  "  female  evil,"  not  of  the  best 
reputation  for  strict  chastity.  To  show  that  the  word 
"  mysterious "  used  above  is  justly  applied  to  these 
poems,  we  have  only  to  remember  that  for  many  years 
after  they  were  first  published,  they  were  all  supposed  to 
be  addressed  to  a  woman,  young  and  beautiful ;  and  even 
as  late  as  1797  Chalmers  endeavoured  to  show  that  this 
was  none  other  than  Queen  Elizabeth,  although  her 
Majesty  must  have  been  close  upon  sixty  years  of  age 
when  the  Sonnets  were  commenced.  Coleridge  thought 
the  person  addressed  was  a  woman,  and  that  Sonnet  xx. 
and  others,  which  speak  so  evidently  of  a  man,  were  put 
in  as  a  blind.  Many  other  solutions  more  or  less  absurd 
have  appeared  in  print  for  the  last  hundred  years  or  more, 
and  many  still  appear  in  the  course  of  every  few  years. 

The  first  critic  who  deserves  the  credit  of  directing 
the  public  to  what  is  now  generally  believed  to  be 
the  true  solution,  and  of  naming  the  right  young  man, 
was  Dr.  Drake,  who  in  his  excellent  work,  Shakespeare 
and  his  Times  (1817),  conjectured  that  Henry  Wriothesley, 
Earl  of  Southampton,  was  the  friend  of  Shakespeare  who 
was  addressed  so  affectionately  in  the  Sonnets,  as  well  as 
inscribed  so  lovingly  in  the  dedication  to  his  poems.  Of 
course  he  was  met  in  the  later  Sonnets  by  the  difficulty 
that  the  adored  friend's  name  was  clearly  Will,  that  is 
William,  while  Southampton's  name  was  Henry  ;  but  he 
easily  managed  to  get  over  this  slight  discrepancy,  by 
announcing  his  entire  conviction  that  the  later  Sonnets 
were  not  written  to  a  real  object  at  all!  And  a  Mr. 
Heraud,  a  rather  famous  critic  in  his  day,  says  :  "  After 
a  careful  re-perusal  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  is  not  a  single  Sonnet  which  is  addressed  to  any 
individual  at  all."  * 

But  enough  of  such  barren  surmises,  which  could 
easily  be  recounted  in  detail  so  as  to  fill  more  than  an 

*  Shakespeare^  his  Inner  Life,  by  J.  A.  Heraud,  London,  1865. 


132       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

hundred  pages  ;  I  only  refer  to  them  here  to  show  what 
a  mysterious,  difficult,  and  thorny  subject  critics  have 
always  found  the  Sonnets  to  be. 

A  Mr.  Tyler  attempted  a  new  explanation  in  1890, 
and  was  so  very  ingenious  and  successful  that  for  a  time 
he  deceived  the  very  elect ;  and  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  believed, 
with  many  other  most  distinguished  Shakespearians,  that 
the  right  man  was  a  William,  the  Mr.  W.  H.  of  the  dedica- 
tion, and  none  other  than  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, and  that  the  Dark  Lady  was  Mistress  Mary  Fitton, 
maid  of  honour  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  a  prominent  performer 
in  the  Court  masques  and  interludes,  the  secret,  illicit 
mistress  of  William  Shakespeare,  William  Herbert,  and  two 
or  three  other  Wills,  and  the  mother  of  a  base-born  child 
of  which  WilHam  Herbert  was  the  putative  father. 

Mr.  Tyler's  very  convincing  book  held  the  field  for 
some  years,  and  I  believe  some  able  Shakespearians  still 
swear  by  his  interpretation.  It  is  certainly  a  learned  and 
able  attempt  to  throw  light  upon  a  very  dark  subject, 
one  especially  dark  for  all  those  who  hold  the  Shake- 
spearian hypothesis.  Some  points  connected  with  the 
Dark  Lady  and  her  numerous  "  Wills  "  do  seem  much 
elucidated,  and  some  novel  evidence  is  given  which,  I 
believe,  still  holds  good.  But  when  the  question  of  dates 
comes  to  be  looked  into,  this  William  Herbert  theory 
utterly  comes  to  grief  for  the  majority  of  the  earlier 
Sonnets.  It  can  be  made  very  plain  in  this  way  :  William 
Herbert  was  born  April  8,  1580.  Now  the  first  seventeen 
Sonnets,  or,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  "  The  Pro- 
creation Sonnets"  (c.  1592-3),  are  a  strong  appeal  to  a 
lovely  youth  to  marry  and  beget  a  child  that  may  repro- 
duce and  recall  the  fair  lineaments  of  his  father  should 
death  rob  the  world  of  such  beauty : 

"  Make  thee  another  self,  for  love  of  me, 
That  beauty  still  may  live  in  thine  and  thee." 

— Sonnet  X. 
Cf.  Venus  and  Adonis,  173,  174  : 

"  And  so  in  spite  of  death  thou  dost  survive, 
In  that  thy  likeness  still  is  left  alive." 


A  QUESTION   OF   DATES  133 

But  how  can  this  possibly  be  young  WiUiam  Herbert  ? 
For  these  seventeen  belong  indubitably  to  a  period  when 
he  was  only  about  eleven,  or  at  very  most  twelve  or 
thirteen  years  old. 

I  cannot  give  the  whole  evidence  here,  nor  would  any 
reader  thank  me  if  I  tried,  for  it  is  internal  evidence  of  a 
complicated  but  most  positive  kind.  By  a  careful  com- 
parison of  the  language,  tone  and  parallelisms,  and  char- 
acters of  the  Sonnets  and  early  Plays  and  Poems,  especially 
Venus  and  Adonis,  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
and  others  of  those  so-called  Shakespeare  Plays,  which 
were  often  acted  and  written  long  before  they  were  intro- 
duced by  pirates  to  the  public,  it  comes  out  clearly  and 
convincingly  that  the  earliest  Sonnets  were  written  in  the 
years  1591  to  1593,  when,  as  I  have  said,  Herbert  would 
be  a  boy  of  only  eleven  or  twelve. 

Moreover,  Mr.  Tyler  and  all  the  "  Herbertites  "  agree 
in  saying  that  the  first  intimacy  between  Shakespeare  and 
young  Herbert  must  have  taken  place  in  1598,  when  we 
know,  on  the  best  of  evidence,  young  Herbert  came  up 
to  live  in  London,  having  got  his  father's  permission  to  do 
so  "with  much  adoe."  It  is  Rowland  White,  in  the 
Sidney  Papers,  in  his  letters  about  the  affairs  at  Court, 
who  tells  us  this,  and  if  the  Sonnets,  urging  a  lovely  lad 
to  marry,  were  written  about  1593  at  the  very  latest, 
what  possible  connection  could  they  have  with  Shake- 
speare and  WiUiam  Herbert  in  1598,  five  years  later  ?  I 
should  mention  here,  that  I  have  made  a  discovery  in 
the  Sidney  Papers,  which  neither  Mr.  Tyler  nor  any  one 
else,  as  far  as  I  know,  has  noticed,  viz.  that  young  William 
Herbert  was  up  in  town  for  some  months  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  year  1595,  when  he  would  be  between  fifteen 
and  sixteen,  and  that  his  parents  were  contemplating  his 
marriage  and  engaged  in  negotiations  about  it  at  that 
very  time.  This  would  have  been  a  great  help  to  Mr. 
Tyler's  ingenious  theory  if  he  had  known  of  it,  and  indeed 
when  I  discovered  it  first,  and  took  it  in  connection  with 
Sonnet  civ.  and  the  three  years'  interval  between  the  first 
acquaintance  with  the  lad  there  mentioned,  I  thought  for 


134      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

a  few  moments  very  complacently  that  the  chronological 
key  of  the  Sonnets  had  been  found  at  last,  that  Mr.  W.  H. 
was  WilHam  Herbert,  and  that  Southampton  was  thereby 
excluded  from  the  Procreation  Sonnets  and  all  the  others 
as  well.  But  this  state  of  mind  did  not  last  long.  I 
looked  again  into  Gerald  Massey's  scarce  book.  The 
Secret  Drama  of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  privately  printed 
in  1888,  and  there  found  again  the  evidence  for  Southamp- 
ton in  such  overwhelming  force  that  it  could  not  be 
resisted.  I  am  of  the  same  opinion  still,  and  although 
this  evidence  of  Massey  is  based  on  the  Shakespearian 
hypothesis,  and  his  early  date  of  1590  does  not  seem  so 
probable  to  me  as  1591-93,  there  can  surely  be  no  shadow 
of  doubt  that  Southampton  was  the  youth  to  whom  the 
early  Sonnets  were  addressed,  and  that  the  Pembroke  and 
Fitton  (?)  Sonnets  come  on  later  in  the  book,  and  later 
than  1594  in  any  case.  But  my  great  point  is  that  Bacon 
suits  both  the  Southampton  theory  and  the  Pembroke 
theory  of  the  later  Sonnets  so  very  much  better  than 
Shakespeare  does,  that  the  Sonnets,  both  early  and  late, 
can  be  almost  said  to  establish,  through  these  two  historic 
personages,  the  great  fact  we  are  seeking  to  prove,  viz., 
that  Bacon  was  their  author,  and  not  Shakespeare. 

First  let  us  take  Southampton  and  the  proofs  about 
him,  mainly  from  Massey,  and  from  a  concise  summary 
in  the  Athenceum  for  April  28,  1866,  which  I  give  entire, 
as  follows  : — 

"  If  Southampton  is  not  the  male  friend  addressed  by 
Shakespeare  in  the  earlier  portion  of  these  poems  (the  Sonnets), 
evidence  counts  for  nothing.  Why,  he  is  indicated  in  general 
and  in  particular — as  regards  his  class  and  his  person — by  the 
most  certain  marks.  The  friend  addressed  by  the  poet  is  young 
(S.  i),  of  gracious  presence  (S.  10),  noble  of  birth  (S.  37),  rich 
in  money  and  land  (S.  48),  a  town  gallant  (S.  95),  a  man  vain 
and  exacting  (S.  103). 

"  These  general  characteristics,  though  vague  and  impersonal, 
exclude  a  good  many  pretenders  to  the  office  of  Shakespeare's 
friend.  They  exclude  the  whole  class  of  actors,  playwrights,  and 
managers ;  the  whole  tribe  of  Shakespeare's  kinsmen  and  towns- 


THE   EARLY   SONNETS  135 

men;  and  all  the  imaginary  Hugheses,  Hathaways,  and  Hartes. 
They  confine  our  field  of  choice  to  men  of  the  rank  and  character 
of  Essex,  Rutland,  Pembroke,  and  Southampton,  and  such  like. 
Passing  in  review  men  of  this  class  we  find  one,  and  only  one, 
to  whom  all  the  criteria  above  will  apply.  Essex  was  not  single ; 
Rutland  had  no  previous  connection  with  the  poet,  and  had 
never  publicly  honoured  him ;  Pembroke  was  a  mere  boy,  to 
whom  Shakespeare  had  not  dedicated  a  book.  In  1595  Pem- 
broke, then  William  Herbert  (Lord  Herbert?),  was  only  fifteen 
years  old,  and  his  mother  was  not  a  widow  (and  I  may  add,  he 
was  not  an  only  son  on  whom  the  succession  of  the  direct  line 
depended).     Every  point  in  these  criteria  meets  in  Southampton." 

This  critic  takes,  it  will  be  seen,  1595  for  the  date  of 
the  Sonnets ;  rather  too  late,  I  think. 

Mr.  Massey  devotes  many  pages  to  this  theory  (pp.  52- 
66),  and  begins  thus  : 

"The  youth  whom  the  poet  first  saw  in  all  his  semi- 
feminine  freshness  of  the  proverbial  '  sweet  seventeen,'  and  after- 
wards celebrated  as  a  'sweet  boy,'  a  'lovely  boy,'  a  'beauteous 
and  lovely  youth,'  a  pattern  for  rather  than  a  copy  of  his  Adonis, 
corresponds  perfectly  with  Southampton  in  his  seventeenth  year. 
If  we  take  the  year  1590  for  the  first  group  of  Sonnets,  we  shall 
find  the  young  Earl  of  Southampton's  age  precisely  reckoned  up 
in  Sonnet  16  : 

'  Now  stand  you  on  the  top  of  happy  hours,' 

which  shows  us  that  the  youth  has  sprung  lightly  up  the  ladder 
of  his  life,  and  now  stands  on  the  last  golden  round  of  boyhood. 
(The  years  1591-93  suit  equally  well.)  The  very  first  Sonnet 
addresses  one  who  is  the  'world's  fresh  ornament' — that  is, 
the  budding  favourite  at  Court,  the  fresh  grace  of  its  circle,  the 
latest  representative  there  of  youthful  spring — 'The  Expectancy 
and  Rose  of  the  fair  State ! "  Southampton  was,  in  truth,  the 
'child  of  the  state,'  under  the  special  protection  of  the  Queen. 
He  was  recommended  to  her  Majesty's  notice  and  care  by  the 
loss  of  his  father  at  so  early  an  age,  ...  as  well  as  favoured 
with  the  best  word  of  his  guardian,  Burleigh,  who  at  one  time 
hoped  to  bring  about  a  marriage  betwixt  Southampton  and  his 
own  grand-daughter.  We  shall  see  further  that  such  was  his 
place  in  her  Majesty's  regards,  that  an  endeavour  was   made 


136      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

by  Sir  Fulke  Greville  and  others  to  get  the  Earl  of  Southampton 
installed  as  royal  favourite  instead  of  Essex." 

Gerald  Massey  proceeds  with  his  arguments  and  proofs 
at  too  great  length  to  extract  them  here,  but  I  will  give 
the  summary,  asking  the  reader  first  to  notice  how  well 
Bacon  would  fit  in  if  we  consider  the  proposed  marriage 
with  Burghley's  grand-daughter  above,  and  the  endeavour 
to  get  Southampton  into  the  place  of  favour  that  Essex 
held. 

How  badly  Shakespeare  fits  in,  too.  What  can 
Shakespeare,  who  has  only  been  in  London  three  or  four 
years,  and  has  hardly  yet  shaken  off  his  dialect  or  the 
manners  of  the  stable-yard — what  can  he  possibly  have 
to  do  with  such  matters  of  high  statecraft  and  political 
influence  ?  Why  should  he,  of  all  possible  people,  write 
a  series  of  elaborate  "  Procreation  Sonnets  *'  in  order  to 
induce  a  young  nobleman  of  high  prospects  to  marry  the 
grand-daughter  of  the  highest  dignitary  in  the  kingdom  ? 
What  was  Burghley  to  Will  Shakespeare,  or  he  to  Burghley  ? 
And  how  on  earth  could  the  Warwickshire  husband  of 
Anne  Hathaway,  as  yet  only  a  rising  supernumerary 
among  a  company  of  actors,  "  vagrants  by  law  "  and 
mostly  out-at-elbows  whether  on  the  stage  or  off  * — 
how  on  earth,  I  say,  could  he  dare  to  make  love  to  such 
a  blooming  scion  of  the  aristocracy,  and  dare  to  make  such 
a  seventeen-fold  suggestion,  that  he  should  marry  at  once 
and  get  a  child  "  for  love  of  me  "  (Sonnet  x.),  the  me 
being  in  so  extremely  different  a  social  position  ? 

But  if  we  take  Bacon  and  put  him  in  Shakespeare's 
place  all  fits  in  most  admirably.  There  is  no  social  bar 
between  Francis  Bacon,  the  clever  son  of  the  late  Lord 
Keeper,  and  the  young  Earl  of  Southampton.  They  are, 
too,  members  of  the  same  Honourable  Society  of  Gray's 
Inn,  and  are  likely  enough  to  be  brought  into  intimate 
contact,  for  Bacon,  the  older  member  of  the  Society, 
would  be  sure  to  call  upon  or  at  least  cultivate  the  ac- 
quaintance of  such  a  distinguished  fresh-comer  as  was 

*   Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  attacks  in  Poetaster,  Sec. 


THE   ADONIS   OF  THE   SONNETS  137 

Southampton.  Moreover,  the  beauty  of  the  lad  would 
draw  Bacon  to  intimacy,  if  nothing  else  did.  Who  so 
likely  as  Bacon  to  try  and  foster  a  marriage  that  would 
unite  the  powerful  families  of  Wriothesley  and  Cecil — 
unite  his  new  friend  Southampton  to  his  old  family  patron 
Burghley  and  the  Cecils  generally,  to  whom,  since  the 
death  of  his  father,  Bacon  had  steadily  and  almost  solely 
looked  for  help  and  patronage.  And  to  get  Southampton 
into  Court  favour  instead  of  Essex  would  be  indeed  a 
double  success,  for  Bacon  and  the  Cecils  would  be  rid  of 
Essex,  who  was  then  a  hostile  influence  to  both,  and 
Southampton,  allied  by  marriage  to  Burghley  (if  it  came 
off),  would  become  a  most  powerful  ally. 

There  was  some  use  and  purpose  in  Bacon  circulating 
among  his  private  friends  such  sugared  sonnets  to  the 
"  coming  man,"  but  where  does  Shakespeare  come  in  ? 
A  few  of  the  primary  facts  as  substantiated  by  Mr. 
Massey,  an  orthodox  Shakespearian  be  it  remembered, 
are  these  : 

(i)  That  Henry  Wriothesley  was  the  fatherless 
young  friend  to  whom  Shakespeare  addressed  his  first 
Sonnets. 

(2)  That  it  was  to  him  the  promise  of  a  public  dedica- 
tion of  his  Poems  was  privately  made  in  Sonnet  xxvi. 

(3)  That  he  was  the  living  original  from  whom  the 
poet  drew  his  portrait  of  Adonis  as  the  Master-Mistress 
of  his  passion. 

(4)  That  he  was  the  man  who  encouraged  Shake- 
speare to  publish  his  Poems,  and  the  friend  to  whom  the 
Sonnets  were  offered  privately  as  the  "  barren  tender  of 
a  Poet's  debt." 

(5)  That  a  mass  of  the  Sonnets  belong  to  the  time  of 
the  early  Plays,  and  were  therefore  written  too  soon  for 
William  Herbert  to  have  been  the  friend  addressed  in 
them. 

And  finally,  he  adds,  "If  evidence  is  to  count  for  any- 
thing, we  may  now  consider  Henry  Wriothesley,  Earl  of 
Southampton,  to  be  sufficiently  identified  as  the  young 
friend  and  patron,  who  was  both  the  object  and  subject 


138       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

of  the   early  Sonnets."     I   heartily   endorse   these  last 
words,  and  so  do  most  students  of  the  subject  now. 

Mr.  Massey  has  several  other  arguments  besides  the 
above,  especially  a  curious  solution  of  that  well-known 
crux  in  Sonnet  xx.,  which  as  originally  printed  was  : 

"  A  man  in  hew  all  //ews  in  his  controwling," 

where  the  word  in  italics  with  a  capital  H  is  supposed  to 
contain  some  hidden  allusion  which  might  possibly  dis- 
cover the  secret.  This  I  have  left  to  be  considered,  with 
other  solutions,  when  we  are  dealing  with  separate  Sonnets. 
Our  critic  is  rather  severe  and  sarcastic  when  he  has  to 
deal  with  those  who  reject  Southampton.  "  Professor 
Dowden,"  he  remarks,  "  has  the  temerity  to  assert  that 
Henry  Wriothesley  'was  not  beautiful,'  for  which 
gratuitous  assertion  he  had  no  warrant  whatever.  He 
merely  repeats  without  testing  what  Boaden  had  already 
said  without  proof.  The  Professor  further  declares  that 
Southampton  bore  '  no  resemblance  to  his  mother.'  But 
if  this  were  a  fact,  he  had  no  knowledge  of  it — where  is 
the  fact  recorded  ?  '  Youngster,'  said  the  impecu- 
nious manager  EUiston  to  the  author  of  Black-eyed  Susan, 
'  have  you  the  confidence  to  lend  me  a  guinea  ?  '  *  I 
have  all  the  confidence  in  the  world,'  said  Jerrold,  '  but 
I  haven't  got  the  guinea.'  So  is  it  with  the  Herbertites. 
They  have  any  amount  of  assertion,  but  not  the  needful 
facts." 

Those  I  have  called  the  Herbertites  Massey  calls 
Brownites,  and  devotes  a  whole  chapter  to  the  Lues 
Browniana,  with  which  disease  he  thinks  all  the  champions 
of  WiUiam  Herbert  are  infected.  Charles  Armytage 
Brown  wrote  to  prove  the  Herbert  theory  as  early  as 
1838,  and  Brown  and  Massey  were  looked  upon  as  the 
protagonists  of  their  respective  sides.  But  none  of  these 
combatants  had  all  the  facts,  and  for  the  matter  of 
Southampton's  "  beauty  "  I  am  able  to  contribute  some 
new  ones. 

Those  Shakespearian  critics  (e.g.  Prof.  Dowden  and 
others)  who  are  opposed  to  the  Southampton  theory  of 


THE   ADONIS   OF   THE   SONNETS  139 

the  Sonnets,  and  have  declared  that  Henry  Wriothesley 
was  anything  but  a  good-looking  man,  and  therefore 
most  unlikely  to  receive  the  almost  extravagant  praise 
of  the  Sonnets,  seem  to  have  judged  by  the  engraved 
portraits  of  Southampton  in  later  life.  These  certainly 
do  not  give  him  the  appearance  of  an  Adonis,  and  do  not 
lead  us  to  fancy  that  he  ever  was  one.  But  such  learned 
critics  have  gone  wrong,  as  so  often  happens,  through 
their  lack  of  the  necessary  knowledge  that  would  per- 
manently settle  the  question.  They  can  now,  with- 
out any  hesitation  or  any  particle  of  doubt,  be  put 
right. 

The  young  Earl  of  Southampton  when  he  was  between 
eighteen  and  nineteen  was  an  Adonis,  and  there  is  the 
best  possible  proof  of  it.  He  accompanied,  with  many 
others  of  the  English  aristocracy,  our  great  Queen  Elizabeth 
when  she  visited  Oxford  in  state  in  1592.  The  Vice- 
Chancellor  of  the  University  gave  the  royal  company  a 
dinner,  and  John  Sanford,  who  was  chaplain  of  Magdalen, 
and  evidently  an  excellent  Latin  scholar,  gave  an  account 
of  this  dinner  and  the  guests  in  a  very  rare  tract  of  Latin 
verse  of  which  only  two  copies  are  known.*  The  most 
distinguished  visitors  each  have  two  or  three  lines  of 
notice  in  the  poem,  and  this  is  what  the  learned  John 
Sanford  says  of  the  young  Southampton  : 

"  Quo  non  formosior  alter 
Affuit,  aut  docta  juvenis  praestantior  arte  ; 
Ora  licet  tenera  vix  dum  lanugine  vernent," 

that  is,  he  was  the  handsomest  personage  of  the  whole 
company,  though  but  a  smooth-faced  boy  whose  cheeks 
had  scarce  yet  the  downy  promise  of  Spring.  Here  is 
Adonis  drawn  to  the  life. 

Strange  to  relate,  the  other  candidate  for  the  "  only 
begetter  "  of  the  Sonnets  was  also  among  the  guests  on 
this  historic  occasion,  and  young  William  Herbert,  then 
but  twelve  years  old,  was  privileged  to  sit  down  with  his 
father  and  enjoy  the  good  things  provided  by  hospitable 

*  Apollinis  et  Musarum  'EuktikS  EtS^XXia  hi  serenissimce  Regince  Eliza- 
betha  auspicatissimum  Oxoniam  adventwn. — Oxonia  (1592),  410. 


I40      PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

Dr.  Bond.  The  young  boy  is  not  without  his  Hne  or  two 
of  praise : 

"  Puer  hue  patrem  comitatus  euntem 
Sedit  convivas  inter,  praenobilis  haeres 
Indolis  egregise,  sed  cui  siat  messis  in  herbdP 

This  was  a  neat  Httle  piece  of  praise,  for  the  words  in 
itaHcs  were  the  family  motto  or  emblem-device. 

Here  then  in  this  account  we  have  a  well-authenticated 
date,  1592,  and  we  know  pretty  well  how  all  the  parties 
we  are  particularly  concerned  in  are  spending  their  time 
except  that  will-o'-the-wisp  Shakespeare,  whom  we  can 
hardly  ever  follow  up  or  locate. 

As  to  dating  the  Sonnets  as  accurately  as  possible,  it 
is  important  on  the  Bacon  theory  of  authorship,  for  we 
do  know,  pretty  well,  from  Spedding's  exhaustive  life  of 
Bacon,  what  was  happening  to  him  each  year  from  1590 
or  thereabouts.  But,  on  the  Shakespeare  theory, 
dating  the  Sonnets  is  not  of  much  use,  and  indeed 
prominent  Shakespearians,  such  as  Mr.  Howard  Furness 
of  the  Variorum  Shakespeare,  and  others,  agree  to  this, 
for  they  tell  us  : 

"If  we  arrange  dates  to  Shakespeare's  Plays,  what  else  is  it 
but  re-arranging  that  chronological  table  which  by  courtesy  we 
now  call  a  Life  of  Shakespeare,  and  which  he  who  knows  more 
about  it  than  all  the  rest  of  us  styles,  as  modestly  as  truthfully, 
merely  outlines.  Of  the  real  Life  we  know  absolutely  nothing, 
and  I  for  one  am  genuinely  thankful  that  it  is  so,  and  gladly 
note,  as  the  years  roll  on,  that  the  obscurity  which  envelops  it 
is  as  utter  and  impenetrable  as  ever."  * 

This  seems  an  odd  utterance,  that  a  devoted  Shakesperian 
should  be  thankful  for  knowing  so  little  about  Shake- 
speare's true  life  ;  but  I  think  he  means  this,  that  he  is 
glad  Shakespeare  is  not  in  the  Poems  and  Plays  personally 
or  autobiographically,  for  he  does  not  want  the  incidents 
of  Shakespeare's  possibly  trivial  life  half-masked  in  the 
verse  or  action  of  the  Plays ;  he  would  much  rather  have 
the  marvellous  conceptions  of  Shakespeare's  mind  pre- 
sented in  their  singular  beauty  as  they  are  now,  inde- 

*  Merchant  of  Venice,  Var.  Ed.,  p.  277. 


THE   ADONIS   OF  THE   SONNETS  141 

pendent  of  any  such  autobiographical  allusions,  free 
expressions  of  the  highest  fancy,  and  absolutely  unmasked 
and  undisguised. 

But  no  such  difficulties  or  disappointments  crop  up 
on  the  Baconian  theory — the  clearer  idea  we  get  of  the 
dates,  the  better  proofs  have  we  whereby  we  can  judge 
whether  Bacon  wrote  them  or  not ;  and  personally  I 
must  say  that  making  clear  to  myself  the  early  date  of 
the  first  seventeen  Sonnets  had  much  to  do  with  making 
clear  to  me  who  their  author  was.  If  the  earlier  Sonnets 
were  written  about  1591-92,  it  is  very  hard  to  see  how 
Shakespeare  can  possibly  come  in.  But  we  shall  hear 
more  about  dates  when  we  take  some  of  the  Sonnets 
separately. 

Enough  has  been  said,  I  hope,  to  show  that  South- 
ampton is  the  *'  lovely  youth  "  addressed  in  the  earlier 
Sonnets,  and  that  certainly  Francis  Bacon  was  a  far  more 
likely  person  to  write  familiar  and  affectionate  sonnets 
to  a  rising  young  aristocrat  than  was  the  nondescript 
supernumerary  WilHam  Shakespeare.  I  shall  try  to 
prove  this  more  conclusively  still  when  I  come  to  consider 
the  correspondence  (epistolary)  that  passed  between 
Bacon  and  the  Earls  of  Southampton,  Pembroke,  and 
Essex. 

But  I  have  a  very  good  proof  that  Bacon  did  write 
sonnets,  and,  what  is  more,  showed  them  to  his  friend 
Southampton  for  his  opinion  and  judgment ;  and  perhaps 
this  is  the  best  place  to  introduce  it.  I  am  also  incHned 
to  think  that  this  very  poem  is  extant,  having  been 
ascribed  to  Shakespeare  on  the  authority  of  a  common- 
place book  which  is  preserved  in  the  Hamburg  City 
Library.  I  shall  give  the  poem  and  a  fuller  account 
when  I  deal  with  the  correspondence  of  Bacon  and  Essex. 
Meanwhile,  here  is  the  evidence  referred  to  above  : 

Bacon  in  his  Apology  concerning  the  late  Earl  of  Essex, 
published  in  1604,  says  : 

"  A  little  before  that  time,  (the  Trial)  being  about  the  middle 
of  Michaelmas  term,  her  Majesty  had  a  purpose  to  dine  at  my 


142       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

lodge  at  Twicknam  Park,  at  which  time  I  had  (though  I  profess 
not  to  be  a  poet)  prepared  a  sonnet  directly  tending  and  alluding 
to  draw  on  her  Majesty's  reconcilement  to  my  Lord,  which  I 
remember  also  I  showed  to  a  great  person^  and  one  of  my 
Lord's  nearest  friends^  who  commended  it :  this,  though  it 
be  (as  I  said)  but  a  try,  yet  it  shewed  plainly  in  what  spirit  I 
proceeded,"  &c. 

I  suggest  that  this  great  person  and  great  friend  of 
Essex  was  none  other  than  Southampton,  and  that  Bacon 
showed  him  this  sonnet  as  he  had  shown  to  him  many 
another  sonnet  before,  privately  as  among  friends.  The 
author  of  Shakespeare's  Poems  and  Plays  was  apparently 
on  terms  of  friendship  and  admiration  with  both  Essex 
and  Southampton  before  the  disastrous  Irish  expedition 
and  the  subsequent  rebellious  uprising  of  Essex  and  his 
followers  (Feb.  1601) ;  but  as  Mr.  Tyler  says  {Sonnets, 
p.  30),  "  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  as  early  as  1601 
he  became  alienated  from  Southampton." 

The  Baconian  hypothesis  fits  in  best  with  these  facts, 
for  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  Essex  and  Southampton  was 
of  vital  importance  to  Bacon,  whose  whole  political 
advancement  and  future  prospects  in  life  depended  on 
it,  while  the  actor-manager  Shakespeare  and  his  relation 
to  Southampton  would  be  looked  at  as  merely  that  of 
literary  client  and  patron,  without  any  treasonable  or 
political  significance.  After  Elizabeth's  death,  and  when 
James  I.  had  shown  his  good  inclination  towards  South- 
ampton, and  had  set  him  free  from  his  imprisonment,  then 
it  was  that  Bacon  wrote  to  Southampton  a  remarkable 
letter  (c/.  Montagu's  Life  of  Bacon,  p.  98),  in  which  he 
uses  this  expression,  "  I  may  safely  be  that  to  you  now, 
which  I  was  truly  before."  Bacon  makes  a  strong  appeal 
for  renewed  friendship,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
appeal  was  met  in  any  particular  way.  It  is  supposed  that 
the  breach  caused  by  Bacon's  conduct  at  the  trial  of  Essex 
was  never  quite  healed.  But  under  James  I.  they  be- 
longed to  the  same  political  party  and  had  the  same 
interests,  and  were  both  in  favour  of  colonisation,  and 
sat  together  on  the  Council  of  Virginia. 


SIDNEY'S   INFLUENCE  143 

The  lifelong  intimacy  and  the  early  and  very  close 
relationship  between  Bacon  and  Southampton  present  no 
difficulties  to  the  historical  inquirer. 

It  is  a  different  and  wellnigh  impossible  task  that 
faces  us  when  we  try  to  join  together  in  early  friendship, 
or  even  in  mere  casual  acquaintance,  two  men  so  widely 
apart  in  the  qualifications  that  make  for  intimacy,  as 
were  Southampton  and  Shakespeare.  The  suggestions 
that  critics  are  often  obliged  to  make  to  account,  for 
instance,  for  the  first  introduction  of  one  to  the  other  are 
in  general  ludicrously  imaginative.  Indeed,  the  only 
point  that  the  Shakespearians  can  score  in  this  matter  is, 
that  the  poems  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece  are  dedica- 
cated  to  Southampton,  and  signed  by  Shakespeare  in  his 
own  name.  But  how  easily  might  that  have  been  a  blind. 
Bacon  might  not  wish  to  "  show  his  head  "  until  his  be- 
loved Southampton  gave  his  consent,  and  Southampton  may 
not  have  cared  that  Bacon  should  appear  in  the  matter  at 
all,  lest  the  malevolent  world  should  begin  to  wag  its 
tongue  about  the  "sugred  sonnets  "  or  something  worse. 

Of  this  one  thing  we  may  be  pretty  sure  :  the  author 
of  Venus  and  Adonis  and  the  Sonnets  was  a  man  of  elegant 
and  courtly  manners,  who  was  at  the  time  of  writing  much 
under  the  influence  of  Sidney's  Arcadia  and  Sidney's  other 
literary  works.  It  should  be  noticed  that  Venus  and 
Adonis,  although  not  quite  commendable  from  the  moral- 
pedagogical  point  of  view,  and  not  quite  a  book  for  the 
young  lady's  boudoir,  or  even  the  drawing-room  table, 
is  most  certainly  not  written  in  a  low  or  vulgar  strain  of 
obscenity,  and  is  far  removed  from  the  ribald  licence  that 
was  too  often  permitted  both  in  public  and  private  in 
those  more  outspoken  days.  I  believe  Queen  Elizabeth, 
old  as  she  was,  would  have  read  of  this  Adonis,  his  boyish 
attractions  and  shame-faced  manners,  with  the  highest 
interest — nay,  would  almost  have  gloated  over  some  of 
the  more  striking  passages,  for  she  had  the  blood  of 
Henry  "  Bluebeard  "  Tudor  in  her  veins,  and  was  as 
fond  of  blushing  beardless  boys  when  she  herself  was 
approaching  sixty,  as  an  old  maid  of  her  last  litter  of 


144       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

kittens — and  let  us  hope  with  no  more  evil  intent.     I 
am  not  one  to  bring  up  fresh  "  scandal "  against  the 
Virgin  Queen,  and  when  I  suppose  the  Queen  to  be  an 
interested  reader  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  I  take  into  account 
the  manners  of  the  time,  and  do  not  charge  her  Majesty 
with  being  any  worse  in  her  literary  tastes  than  her 
lively  maids  of  honour.     I  believe  she  was  more  foolishly 
vain  than  the  majority  of  her  sex,  and  looked  for  real 
love  and  adoration  at  sixty — but  that  was  perhaps  all, 
and  her  unique  position  may  have  produced  and  sustained 
that  feeling.     It  has  more  than  once  crossed  my  mind 
that  if  Bacon  really  wrote  Venus  and  Adonis  with  South- 
ampton's beauty  and  Court  prospects  before  him,  the 
aspiring  Francis  must  have  plainly  seen  that  such  enticing 
descriptions  of  a  handsome  youth,  with  Southampton's 
name  on  the  dedication-page,  must  evidently  help  to 
bring  the  latter  to  the  Queen's  notice  and  to  further 
Court  favour  and  comment ;    and  this  was  exactly  what 
Bacon  wanted. 

The  Virgin  Queen  was  certainly  not  too  much  of  a 
prude  to  read  Venus  and  Adonis.     Even  when  quite  a 
young  girl  she  was  perfectly  ready,  so  it  seems,  for  a  game 
of  romps  with  her  good-looking  and  semi-paternal  guardian 
if  he  came  into  her  bedroom  before  she  was  up  or  dressed. 
She  was  no  prude  then,  nor  yet,  we  may  take  it,  years 
and  years  afterwards,  when  her  old  lover  Essex  came  in 
hot  haste  from  Ireland,  and  came  all  travel-stained  to 
seek  his  "sovereign,"  pressing  into  the  royal  presence 
before  her  Majesty  was  ready  outwardly  to  receive  him. 
Queen  Elizabeth  was,  in  spite  of  her  imperious  disposition 
and  masterful  activity  in  state  matters,  rather  frivolous 
in  her  pleasures  and  recreations,  and  spent  more  time  in 
seeing  plays  and  frequenting  what  we  should  nowadays 
call  "  low-class  entertainments,"  than  cursory  readers  of 
history  manuals  would  ever  suspect.     And  that  great 
Queen,  who  had  heard  in  plain  English  on  the  stage  what 
was  the  "  privie  fault  "  of  "Cisly  Bumtrinket,"  and  per- 
haps laughed  over  it,*  was  not  likely  to  throw  aside 

*  Dekker's  Shoemaker  s  Holiday^  i6cxD,  4. 


VENUS   AND   ADONIS  145 

Venus  and  Adonis  from  any  feelings  of  prudery.  Perhaps 
Bacon  knew  that,  and  saw  the  advantage  to  be  gained. 

The  more  I  consider  this  *'  first  heir  "  of  the  author's 
"invention,"  the  more  do  I  think  it  Hkely  that  Bacon 
wrote  it  when  closely  drawn  to  Southampton's  company, 
friendship,  and  future  prospects,  rather  than  that  Shake- 
speare should  bring  it  up  to  town  with  him  from  his 
provincial  home  (as  many  believe,  for  it  was  an  un- 
doubtedly early  work)  and  dedicate  it  to  Southampton 
on  the  chance  of  his  valuable  patronage.  It  is  said,  I 
know,  that  the  poem  is  quite  alien  to  Bacon's  serious  and 
philosophic  turn,  but,  as  I  have  tried  to  show.  Bacon  in 
his  early  Gray's  Inn  days  was  not  such  a  serious  and  staid 
personage  as  we  mentally  picture  him  to  be  later  in  life. 
Besides,  I  do  not  see  that  it  is  so  very  reprehensible  even 
in  the  region  of  morals  to  write  and  dedicate  such  a  poem 
as  Venus  and  Adonis  to  Southampton.  True,  it  was  not 
a  work  to  be  written  or  dedicated  Virginibus  fuetisquej 
but  Southampton  was  neither  one  nor  the  other.  He 
was  quite  of  an  age  to  be  married  ;  marriage  was  talked 
about,  and  the  early  Sonnets  recommended  it.  If 
Alphonse  Daudet  dedicated  Sappho  to  his  sons  "  quand 
ils  auront  vingt  ans,"  a  fortiori,  I  say,  might  Bacon,  who 
was  neither  the  lad's  father  nor  tutor,  dedicate  Venus 
and  Adonis  to  Southampton,  who  was  this  very  age. 

Moreover,  so  many  things  seem  to  point  to  Bacon ; 
the  last  stanzas  of  Venus  and  Adonis  show  the  author  to 
be  somewhat  of  a  misogynist  in  spite  of  his  impassioned 
descriptions — which,  by  the  way,  are  both  here  and  in 
the  Lover^s  Lament  mainly  occupied  with  the  male — 
otherwise  he  would  not  depreciate  and  calumniate  love 
as  he  does  towards  the  end  of  the  poem.  The  method 
here  used  strongly  calls  to  mind  the  similar  impeachments 
of  love  in  the  last  Sonnets  to  the  **  Dark  Lady."  In 
both  cases  they  seem  somewhat  uncalled  for,  especially 
in  Venus  and  Adonis ;  and  this  very  fact  seems  to  show 
the  true  psychological  character  of  the  writer.  It  suits 
Bacon,  as  Aubrey  describes  him,  very  accurately,  but  not 
Shakespeare,  who  was  a  virile  Benedict  very  early  in  life, 

K 


146      PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

and  had  twins  before  he  was  in  a  position  to  maintain 
them. 

But  the  Sonnets  have  a  great  deal  to  say  about  a 
**  Will "  or  '*  Wills/*  and  from  the  way  these  words  are 
printed  in  italics  and  referred  to  in  the  Sonnets,  it  seems 
evident  that  a  person  (or  persons)  named  William  plays 
a  leading  part  in  the  mystery  of  the  Sonnets,  especially 
of  the  later  ones.  It  is  enough  to  say  here  that  nearly 
all  the  best  Shakespearians  of  the  orthodox  party  agree 
that  William  Herbert  is  the  hero  of  the  later  Sonnets,  and 
seeing  that  his  unfortunate  liaison  with  Mistress  Fitton 
is  a  historical  fact  fitting  in  very  well  with  the  hazy 
circumstances  of  the  later  Sonnets,  the  number  of  critics 
is  steadily  increasing  who  believe  that  Mary  Fitton  is  the 
"  Dark  Lady,"  the  unlovely  yet,  in  some  way,  fascinating 
charmer  to  whom  both  Shakespeare  and  Pembroke  fell  a 
victim.  More  recently,  too,  some  family  documents  have 
been  discovered  in  the  muniment  room  of  the  Newdegate 
family,  which  was  allied  by  marriage  to  the  Fittons,  and 
from  these  fresh  corroborating  evidence  has  been  drawn. 
It  had  been  supposed  by  that  shrewd  dramatic  critic 
Mr.  Archer  that  the  "  Dark  Lady  "  in  Sonnet  cxxxv. 
was  intriguing  with  three  Wills  at  the  same  time,  seeing 
that  she  was  thus  addressed  : 

"  Whoever  hath  her  wish,  thou  hast  thy  Willy 
And  Will  to  boot,  and  Will  in  overplus." 

Now  William  Herbert  and  William  Shakespeare  would 
account  for  two  Wills,  but  who  was  the  third  Will  ?  This 
was  a  mystery  until  the  letters  from  the  Newdigate  chest 
revealed  the  fact  that  Sir  William  KnoUys,  who  was 
Comptroller  of  the  Queen's  Household,  and  therefore 
brought  into  close  relation  to  the  maids  of  honour,  was 
a  great  admirer  of  Mary  Fitton,  and  had  talked  of  marrying 
her  when  his  elderly  wife  was  out  of  the  way.  Here  then 
was  the  third  Will,  and  a  most  curious  old  gentleman  he 
was  to  be  let  loose  in  a  chamber  full  of  frisky  young 
maids  of  honour.  But  that  is  another  tale,  to  be  told  in 
its  proper  place,  under  Sonnet  cxxxv. 


THE  TWO   CAMPS  147 

The  Herbertites  were  naturally  much  encouraged  in 
their  opinions  by  such  an  unexpected  corroboration  as 
this.  But  they  soon  had  their  new  confidence  dashed  to 
the  ground  by  one  of  their  own  orthodox  side.  Mr. 
Sidney  Lee  had  changed  his  camp,  which  used  to  lie 
under  the  Pembroke  standard,  and  had  joined  the  camp 
of  Southampton  ;  so  at  once  he  began  to  lay  about  him 
vigorously,  and  his  orthodox  fellow-Shakespearians  who 
lived  in  his  former  camp  went  down  like  ninepins  before 
a  cunning  thrower.  Pembroke,  said  he,  will  not  do  at 
any  price,  or  with  any  corroboration  ;  why,  Shakespeare 
hardly  knew  him,  and  the  only  positive  proof  we  have 
of  any  connection  between  the  two  was  the  casual  remark 
in  the  dedication  of  the  first  folio  Shakespeare  (1623), 
that  Pembroke  and  his  brother  had  "  prosequuted  '*  the 
plays  and  "  their  author  living  "  with  much  favour,  which 
most  likely  only  meant  the  brother  earls  shared  in  the 
enthusiastic  esteem  which  James  I.  and  all  the  noblemen 
of  the  court  extended  to  Shakespeare  and  his  plays  during 
the  dramatist's  lifetime. 

I  think  that  Mr.  Lee  had  the  best  of  this  argument, 
and  that  it  was,  to  say  the  least,  most  unlikely  that  Shake- 
speare, being  the  manner  of  man  he  was,  with  a  wife  and 
family  at  Stratford  into  the  bargain,  should  have  had  such 
a  peculiar  and  close  intimacy  with  a  prominent  young 
nobleman  and  a  maid  of  honour  standing  high  in  the 
Queen's  favour. 

To  such  difficulties  are  Shakespearians  reduced,  and 
in  such  suicidal  contests  do  they  indulge.  For  if  the 
close  intimacy  of  Shakespeare  and  Pembroke,  as  supposed 
to  be  revealed  in  the  later  Sonnets,  is  without  any  positive 
proof  and  against  all  probability,  why  then  Shakespeare 
did  not  write  these  Sonnets,  and  thence  assuredly  follows 
the  inference,  neither  did  he  write  the  Plays.  For  of  this 
fact  I  am  as  confident  as  I  can  be,  in  a  world  where  il  ne 
faut  jurer  de  rien,  that  whoever  wrote  the  Shakespeare 
Sonnets  was  mainly  responsible  for  the  Shakespeare  Plays. 

But  how  everything  becomes  more  reasonable  and 
probable  when  the  Baconian  hypothesis  is  applied  ! 


148      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

All  the  arguments  derived  from  birth  and  social  posi- 
tion which  I  used  in  the  case  of  Southampton  and  Bacon 
apply  equally  well  here  with  regard  to  all  the  three  persons 
implicated — to  Pembroke,  to  Bacon,  and  to  Mistress 
Fitton.  Bacon  was  evidently  in  a  position  about  court, 
wherein  he  would  have  frequent  opportunities  of  meeting 
and  being  intimately  acquainted  with  both  young  Herbert 
and  Mary  Fitton.  Shakespeare,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
not,  from  his  position,  be  likely  to  be  closely  intimate 
with  any  ladies  of  the  court,  or  with  any  court  noblemen 
either. 

Now  young  "  Lord  Herbert,"  as  he  was  called,  was, 
as  I  have  discovered,  on  a  two  or  three  months'  visit  to 
London  between  October  and  December  1595.  He  was 
fifteen,  and  was  in  town  partly  for  the  sake  of  a  marriage 
being  arranged  for  him,  according  to  the  following  evidence 
which  I  have  extracted  from  Rowland  White's  letters  to 
Sir  Robert  Sydney  at  Flushing,  giving  him  the  court  and 
general  news. 

A  Letter  from  Roland  White  to  Sir  Robert 
Sydney  (at  Flushing) 

"8//^  Oct,  1595. — My  Lord  of  Pembroke  .  .  .  with  my  Lord 
Harbart  (have)  come  up  to  see  the  Queen,  and  (as  I  heare) 
to  deal  in  the  Matter  of  a  Marriage  with  Sir  George  Carey's 
daughter." 

"  idth  Nov,  1595. — Lord  Harbart  in  town  still." 

"15/A  Dec.  1595. — Sir  George  Carey  takes  it  very  unkindly, 
that  my  Lord  of  Pembroke  broke  off  the  match  intended  between 
my  Lord  Harbart  and  his  Daughter,  and  told  the  Queene  it 
was  because  he  wold  not  assure  him  ;£'iooo  a  Yeare,  which 
comes  to  his  Daughter,  as  next  of  Kinne  to  Queen  Ann  Bullen. 
He  hath  now  concluded  a  marriage  between  his  Daughter  and 
my  Lord  Barkley's  Sonne  and  Heire." 

It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  Bacon,  being  often  at 
court,  would  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  young  lad 
now  ;  especially  if  his  mother,  "  Sidney's  sister,"  was  up 
with  her  son. 


THE  CANOPY  SONNET  149 

Thus  after  three  years,  young  Herbert,  in  the  spring 
of  1598  or  perhaps  a  Httle  before,  comes  up  to  live  per- 
manently in  town.  We  know  nothing  of  the  way  in 
which  he  spent  the  year  1598,  although  there  is  an  allusion 
in  a  letter  of  Tobie  Matthew  dated  Sept.  15,  1598,  to 
the  effect  that  a  marriage  was  contemplated  between 
William  Herbert  and  Lady  Hatton,  who  must  have  been 
considerably  older  than  he  was.  During  1599  Herbert 
was  frequently  at  court,  and  on  Nov.  24  White  records, 
"  My  Lord  Harbert  is  exceedingly  beloved  at  court  of 
all  men."  I  should  think  Francis  Bacon  was  much  more 
likely  to  be  one  of  the  company  of  "  adorers  "  than  was 
William  Shakespeare.  And  in  August  1600  White  men- 
tions him  again  thus  :  "  My  Lord  Harbert  is  very  well 
thought  of,  and  keepes  company  with  the  best  and  gravest 
in  court."  This  looks  rather  as  if  he  were  one  of  Francis 
Bacon's  intimates.  Anyhow,  two  months  before,  on 
June  16,  1600,  there  was  a  grand  marriage  festival,  where 
Herbert  and  Bacon  were  both  most  likely  prominent 
actors.  Bacon  was  the  cousin  of  the  bride,  Mistress  Ann 
Russell,  and  Herbert  was  one  of  the  two  noblemen  who 
conducted  the  bride  to  church.  The  Queen  herself  was 
there,  and  having  come  to  Blackfriars  by  water,  she  was 
carried  from  the  waterside  in  a  lectica  borne  by  six  knights. 
Bacon  is  not  named  as  one,  nor  was  he  a  knight  at  this 
date,  but  it  seems  very  possible  from  Sonnet  cxxv.  (the 
Canopy  Sonnet),  beginning,  "  Were 't  aught  to  me  I  bore 
the  canopy,"  that  Bacon  was  privileged,  as  a  cousin  of  the 
bride  and  one  so  well  known  to  the  Queen,  to  assist  in 
bearing  the  canopy  over  the  lectica,  although  he  was  not 
of  such  knightly  rank  as  the  other  bearers. 

There  was  every  likelihood,  too,  of  Bacon  knowing 
Mistress  Mary  Fitton  very  intimately,  although  there  is, 
I  believe,  no  record  of  such  acquaintance  in  print  or  in 
MS.  Bacon  had  two  rather  lively  cousins,  the  Russells, 
among  the  maids  of  honour,  and  through  them  and 
through  his  interest  in  court  masques  and  plays  Bacon 
would  almost  certainly  be  frequently  thrown  into  the 
company  of  the  good  dancer,  Mistress  Mary  Fitton,  the 


I50      PROOFS  OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

foremost  among  the  Queen's  maids  in  the  mazes  of  the 
masques  and  dances.     If  she  was  a  noted  flirt,  and  a 
woman  "  coloured  ill,"  yet  it  was  not  Will  Shakespeare 
who  was,  in  my  opinion,  the  third  "  Will."     I  think  Will 
Kemp  the  famous  clown  and  jig-dancer  was  a  much  more 
likely  man  to  complete  the  trio,  though  he  was  in  a  lower 
station  than  the  other  two  aristocrats.     He  was  not  un- 
known at  court,  and  had  absolutely  been  bold  enough  to 
dedicate  his  book,  the  Nine  dates  wonder,  to  "  Mistress 
Anne  Fitton,  Mayde  of  Honour  to  the  most  sacred  Mayde, 
Royal    Queene    Elizabeth."      Here     Mistress     Fitton's 
Christian  name  is  given  erroneously  as  Anne,  for  Mary 
was  the  only  sister  of  the  Fittons  who  was  a  maid  of 
honour  in  1600,  and  she  is  undoubtedly  the  one  meant 
by   Kemp.     Kemp  probably  knew  her  well  enough  to 
dedicate  his  book  to  her,  through  having  been  her  occa- 
sional tutor  or  prompter  in  dancing  and  posturing.     So 
it  looks  as  if  the  Sonnet  was  right  about  the  third  Will — 
if  Will  Kemp  be  meant — and  that  he  really  was  somewhat 
intimate    with    this    unconventional    young    lady,    who 
tucked  up  her  clothes  and  put  on  a  man's  long  cloak  and 
marched  out  to  meet  her  lover — or  her  lovers,  for  she 
was    certainly    not    confined    to    one.     Anyhow,    there 
seems  excellent  direct  evidence  as  to  Kemp  in  the  follow- 
ing verse  of  contemporary  court  satire,  probably  written 
by  T.  Churchyard,  which  is  found  in  an  unprinted  ballad 
of  the   year   160 1   preserved   among   the  State   Papers 
(Eliz.,  vol.  278,  No.  23),  in  which  the  maids'  chamber,  or 
the  Queen's  household  in  general,  represented  as  a  herd 
of  deer,  is  the  subject  of  the  second  stanza,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  being  the  subject  of  the  first.  Sir  Robert 
Cecil  of  the  third,  and  Raleigh  of  the  seventh  and  last : 

"  Partie  beard  was  afeard 
When  they  rann  at  the  herd  ; 
The  Raine  dear  was  imbost, 
The  white  doe  she  was  lost ; 
Pembroke  strooke  her  downe 
And  took  her  from  the  clowne 
Lord,  for  thy  pittie  I " 


WILL   KEMP  151 

A  writer  in  Blackwood's  Magazine,  June  1901,  explains 
thus  :  "  *  Partie  beard  '  seems  to  be  a  nickname  of  the 
Comptroller  of  the  Household,  Sir  William  Knollys  ;   the 

*  Raine  dear '  is  the  Queen  {la  reine),  '  imbost '  or  em- 
bossed is  a  hunting  term  with  the  secondary  meaning  of 
enraged   (cf.   Antony  and   Cleopatra,   iv.,   xiii.   3) ;    the 

*  white  doe  *  is  Mistress  Fitton,  and  *  the  clowne  *  is 
Shakespeare." 

The  writer  of  the  above  deserves  credit  for  a  useful 
literary  find,  and  his  explanation  of  the  stanza  given 
seems  likely  enough  with  one  important  exception.  The 
"  clowne  "  I  suggest  was  Will  Kemp,  who  always  took 
the  part  of  "  clown "  in  Shakespeare's  company,  and 
elsewhere  too.  Shakespeare  never  was  "  clown "  pro- 
fessionally, nor  ever  stigmatised  as  "  clownish  "  as  far  as 
I  know.  He  was  the  "  gentle  Shakespeare,"  "  sweet  Mr. 
Shakespeare,"  &c. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  question  of  the  supposed  close 
intimacy  between  Herbert  and  Shakespeare  and  Mary 
Fitton  need  detain  us  much  longer.  There  is  really  no 
good  evidence  to  support  it ;  and  the  necessary  inference 
that  the  Queen's  maid  of  honour  was  Shakespeare's 
mistress  before  she  knew  Herbert,  or  indeed  at  any  time, 
is  so  extremely  unlikely,  that  it  would  require  the  strongest 
evidence  to  make  it  at  all  credible. 

Such  a  remarkable  theory  seems  to  have  had  its 
origin  in  the  mysterious  Mr.  W.  H.,  to  whom  the  Sonnets 
were  supposed  to  be  addressed,  or  who  was  the  sole 
cause  of  begetting  or  producing  them  in  the  brain  of  the 
author  Shake-speare.  But  Mr.  W.  H.  is  only  just  possibly 
William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  may  just  as  well 
be  the  Mr.  W.  Hall  whom  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  brings  forward 
— indeed,  I  think  that  the  curiously  coincident  collocation 
of  letters  : 

"  To  the  onlie  begetter  of 
these  ensuing  sonnets 
Mr.  W.  H.  all  happinesse 
and  that  eternitie,"  &c., 

rather  points  in  the  direction  Mr.  Lee  has  aimed  at. 


152       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

The  following  old  jingle  also  seems  to  add  probability 
to  this  : 

"  My  love's  Will 
I  am  content  to  fulfil. 
Within  this  rime  his  nanie  is  framed, 
Tell  me  then  how  he  is  named  ? " 

The  answer,  of  course,  is  Will  I  am = William. 

But  though  we  cannot  connect  Lord  Herbert  and 
Shakespeare  together  by  any  contemporary  history  or 
satire,  we  can,  as  I  believe  and  propose  to  show,  connect 
Herbert  and  Bacon  in  a  way  so  far  quite  unnoticed  by 
any  critic  of  the  Sonnets. 

I  think  we  meet  Bacon  and  Herbert  in  Sir  John  Daw 
(Bacon)  and  Sir  Amorous  La-Foole  (Herbert),  both 
characters  of  Ben  Jonson's  play  The  Silent  Woman  (1609). 
To  see  the  full  force  of  the  allusions  the  play  ought  to  be 
read  through  carefully,  and  I  will  also  say  here  that  the 
Silent  Woman,  who  is  called  "  Epicoene  "  in  the  dramatis 
personce,  and  with  whom  both  the  gallant  knights  confess 
to  have  had  a  consummated  liaison,  turns  out  in  the  end 
to  be  a  boy  in  woman's  clothes.  Sir  John  Daw  shows 
Bacon's  head  on  his  shoulders  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff.  He 
had  been  giving  his  views  (Act  ii.  sc.  2)  of  the  poets,  and 
had  poured  forth  a  succession  of  names  after  the  manner 
of  the  list  in  Palladis  Tamia,  when  Clerimont  and 
Dauphine,  characters  in  the  play,  discuss  him  thus  : 

Cler.  What  a  sackfull  of  their  names  he  has  got. 

Dauph.  And  how  he  pours  them  out  !  Politian  with  Valerius 
Flaccus  !  * 

Cler.  I  wonder  that  he  is  not  called  to  the  helm  and  made  a 
counsellor. 

Dauph.  He  is  one  extraordinary. 

Cler.  Nay,  but  in  ordinary  :  to  say  truth,  the  state  wants  such. 

Dauph.  Why,  that  will  follow. 

Cler.  I  muse  a  mistress  can  be  so  silent  to  the  dotes  of  such  a 
servant. 

*  Meres  in  his  famous  Comparative  Discourse  on  the  Poets  (1598),  which 
tells  us  so  much  about  Shakespeare's  plays,  brings  in  Politian  and  other  moderns 
along  with  the  ancients  as  Sir  John  Daw  docs.  I  have  often  thought  this  part 
of  the  second  Bodenham  book  might  be  Bacon's.   Jonson  seems  to  hint  it  here. 


SIR  JOHN   DAW=BACON  153 

Daw,  'Tis  her  virtue,  sir.  I  have  written  somewhat  of  her 
silence  too. 

Dauph.  In  verse,  Sir  John? 
Cler.  What  else. 

Dauph.  Why,  how  can  you  justify  your  own  being  of  a  poet,  that 
so  slight  all  the  old  poets  ? 

Daw.  Why,  every  man  that  writes  in  verse  is  not  a  poet :  you 
have  of  the  wits  that  write  verses,  and  yet  are  no  poets  :  they  are 
poets  that  live  by  it,  the  poor  fellows  that  live  by  it. 

Dauph.  Why  should  not  you  live  by  your  verses,  Sir  John  ? 
Cler.  No,  'twere  pity  he  should.    A  knight  live  by  his  verses  !  he 
did  not  make  them  to  that  end,  I  hope. 

Dauph,  And  yet  the  noble  Sidney  lives  by  his,  and  the  noble 
family  not  ashamed. 

Cler.  Ay,  he  profest  himself :  but  Sir  John  Daw  has  more  caution  : 
he'll  not  hinder  his  own  rising  in  the  state  so  much.  Do  you  think  he 
will  ?    Your  verses,  good  Sir  John,  and  no  poems. 

Daw.  "  Silence  in  woman,  is  like  speech  in  man  ; 

Deny  't  who  can." 
Dauph,  Not  I,  believe  it,  your  reason,  sir. 
Daw.  "  Nor  is't  a  tale 

That  female  vice  should  be  a  virtue  male. 
Or  masculine  vice  a  female  virtue  be  : 

You  shall  it  see. 
Proved  with  increase : 
I  know  to  speak,  and  she  to  hold  her  peace." 
Do  you  conceive  me,  gentlemen  ? 
Dauph,  No,  faith  ;  how  mean  you  with  increase.  Sir  John  ? 
Daw.  Why,  with  increase  is,  when  I  court  her  for  the  common 
cause  of  mankind,  and  she  says  nothing,  but  consentire  vuieturj  and  in 
time  is  gravida. 

Dauph.  Then  this  is  a  ballad  of  procreation  ? 
Cler.  A  madrigal  of  procreation  ;  you  mistake. 
Epicceney  the  Silent   Woman.    Pray  give  me   my  verses  again, 
servant. 

Daw.  If  you  ask  them  aloud,  you  shall. 

[JValks  aside  with  th^  papers, 

I  shall  not  comment  on  this  or  many  other  passages 
of  this  play  and  other  plays ;  it  would  take  me  beyond 
the  subject  in  hand,  and  surely  any  one  who  knows  a 
little  of  Bacon's  early  life  and  the  scandals  connected  with 
it  will  not  want  a  commentary,  and  the  madrigal  is  in 
the  metre  of  Bacon's  single  specimen.  The  world's  a  bubble, 
&c.     I  will  give  one  more  extract.     They  are  discussing 


154      PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN  AUTHORSHIP 

the  character  of  Epiccene  (the  Silent  Woman  with  the 
boy's  doublet  and  hose  beneath  her  dress,  Mrs.  Fitton  ? ) : 

Cler.  And  what  humour  is  she  of?     Is  she  coming  and  open,  free  ? 

Daw,  O,  exceeding  open,  sir.  I  was  her  servant,  and  Sir  Amorous 
was  to  be. 

CUr.  Come,  you  have  both  had  favours  from  her :  I  know,  and 
have  heard  so  much. 

Daw.  O  no,  sir. 

La-FooU.  You  shall  excuse  us,  sir,  we  must  not  wound  reputation. 

Cler.  Tut,  she  is  married  now  ;  and  you  cannot  hurt  her  with  any 
report  ;  and  therefore  speak  plainly  :  how  many  times,  i'  faith  ?  which 
of  you  led  first  ?  ha  ! 

La-Foole.  Sir  John  had  her  maidenhead,*  indeed. 

Daw.  O,  it  pleases  him  to  say  so,  sir  ;  but  Sir  Amorous  knows 
what's  what  as  well. 

Cler.  Dost  thou,  i'  faith.  Amorous .? 

La-Foole.  In  a  manner,  sir. 

Cler.  Why,  I  commend  you,  lads,  little  knows  Don  Bridegroom  of 
this  ;  nor  shall  he  for  me. 

Whether  this  Don  Bridegroom  was  Captain  Lougher 
or  Captain  Polwhele  I  shall  not  venture  to  examine,  for 
genealogists  cannot  agree  which  had  the  precedence  in 
marrying  Mary  Fitton. 

However,  whether  these  remarkable  allusions  stand 
or  fall  does  not  so  much  matter,  for  in  either  case  we  have 
a  total  exclusion  of  Shakespeare  of  Stratford  from  any 
connection  with  this  evidently  popular  tale  of  the 
"  scandal  of  the  Epiccene  woman."  The  date  of  this 
Jonsonian  play  should  be  noticed  ;  it  coincides  with  the 
publishing  of  the  incriminating  Sonnets. 

But  I  must  find  a  place  for  one  more  very  short 
extract  from  Act  iv.  sc.  2.  One  of  the  characters  thus 
addresses  Sir  John  Daw  : 

If  you  love  me,  Jack,  you  shall  make  use  of  your  philosophy  now, 
for  this  once,  and  deliver  me  your  sword. 

Daw  {replies).  As  I  hope  to  finish  Tacitus,  I  intend  no  murder. 

What  possible  reason,  one  asks,  was  there  for  Ben  to 
bring  Tacitus  in  ?  he  had  absolutely  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  the  plot  or  the  incidents  of  the  plays.      True, 

*  This  excludes  the  drab  Lais. 


BACON   AND   TACITUS  155 

but  it  was  a  fine  hit  at  Bacon,  and  is  a  neat,  manifold 
allusion  of  Ben's  to  (i)  the  tale  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
Bacon,  the  play  of  Richard  11.,  and  Dr.  Hay  ward.  Here 
Bacon  got  out  of  a  grave  difficulty,  when  questioned  by 
Elizabeth,  by  saying  he  did  not  find  treason  in  the  in- 
criminated play,  but  felony — felony  from  Tacitus.  Ben 
knew  what  he  was  writing  about  well  enough,  and  so 
would  the  audience.  It  was  also  clearly  an  allusion  to  (2) 
some  work  on  Tacitus  by  Bacon  now  unfortunately  lost. 
There  was  a  work  entitled  Notes  from  the  First  Book 
of  Tacitus,  touching  the  Making  or  Breaking  of  Factions. 
This  was  among  Bacon's  papers  when  Dr.  Tenison  made 
a  list  of  what  he  had  in  a  box  in  1682.  These  Tacitus 
notes  and  many  other  papers  on  Tenison's  list  have  now 
disappeared.  Or  it  might  be  an  allusion  to  (3)  an 
English  translation  of  Tacitus,  presumably  written  by  a 
Richard  Grenewey,  of  whom  nothing  is  known  (in  1597). 
Some  have  thought  this  translation  to  be  by  Bacon  on 
account  of  the  many  parallel  passages  in  it  and  in  Richard 
II.  Perhaps  Jonson  knew.  But  anyhow,  no  one  but 
Bacon  suits  this  Tacitus  allusion.  In  fact,  Bacon  is 
clearly  aimed  at  in  many  ways,  and  such  a  series  of  apt 
satirical  allusions  as  we  meet  with  in  the  character  of 
Sir  John  Daw  could  not,  I  venture  to  assert,  be  adapted 
to  any  contemporary  personage  except  Francis  Bacon, 
knight,  lawyer,  concealed  poet,  rising  statesman,  and 
"  extraordinary  counsellor."  He  and  Sir  John  Daw 
alike  filled  all  these  positions.  That  Sir  Amorous  is 
young  Lord  Herbert  is  not  quite  so  clear,  and  perhaps 
some  may  think  that  the  circumstances  of  the  play  would 
agree  with  Southampton's  love-escapades  almost  as  well. 
But  I  think  not  so,  for  Southampton  is  not  connected 
with  a  maiden  in  the  Sonnets  at  all,  but  with  a  Lady 
of  considerable  experience  in  the  bonds  of  love  and 
possibly  of  wedlock  too  ;  while  with  Herbert  and  Mistress 
Fitton  it  was  presumably  a  case  of  virgin  love,  and  this 
apparently  was  Epicoene's  case  in  the  play.  Moreover, 
I  shall  show  that  Ben  Jonson  in  another  play,  later  on, 
alludes  to  Southampton  and  his  bosom  friend  Bacon,  and 


156      PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

their  common  drab  whom  they  shared  between  them — 
the  lady  here  being  of  a  very  different  stamp  from  a  maid 
of  honour.  Moreover,  Sir  Amorous  La-Foole  does  not 
present  to  us  the  character  of  a  practised  rouS,  or  an 
associate  with  depraved  women  of  the  theatres  ;  but 
rather  appears  to  be  a  simple,  sensual  young  gallant  of  not 
overmuch  experience.  And  this  hits  off  young  Lord 
Herbert  very  well.  Till  he  fell  a  victim  to  Mary  Fitton's 
blandishments  he  seems,  by  what  Rowland  White  and 
others  tell  us,  to  have  been  a  young  aristocrat  who  made 
a  good  impression  at  court,  and  was  fond  of  the  society  of 
grave  and  notable  men,  but  eventually  showed  that  he  had 
a  nature  of  a  warm  and  sensuous  kind.  No  doubt  the 
terpsichorean  abilities  of  Mistress  Mary  Fitton  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  conquering  his  youthful  modesty,  for  on 
June  i6,  1600,  he  was  present  at  the  marriage  of  Mistress 
Anne  Russell  (one  of  the  frisky,  gambolling  lambs  that 
disturbed  old  Sir  William  Knollys),  and  helped  to  conduct 
the  bride  to  church.  This  was  indeed  an  eventful  day  for 
him,  for  Mistress  Fitton  was  chief  dancer  in  the  Masque. 
An  eventful  day  indeed !  Some  of  its  blushing  secrets 
were  doubtless  kept  ever  hidden  in  his  breast,  for  on 
March  25,  1601,  Mary  Fitton,  the  Queen's  most  notable 
and  lively  maid  of  honour,  brought  forth  a  male  child, 
born  dead.  This  tell-tale  boy  carries  us  back  to  that 
*'  leafy  month  of  June  "  of  the  year  before,  when  the 
marriage  guests  were  all  so  merry,  and  when,  no  doubt, 
young  Lord  Herbert  fell  vanquished  by  Cupid's  dart. 
However,  before  this  he  had  not  been  a  forward  lover, 
and  clearly  we  cannot  connect  him  with  any  common 
"  drab  "  or  *'  loose-legged  Lais."  Let  him  tell  his  own 
tale  as  to  that. 

Sonnet 

By  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke 
[^Opportunities  neglected^ 

Yet  was  her  Beauty  as  the  blushing  Rose, 
And  greedy  passionate  was  my  desire. 
And  Time,  and  Place,  my  reconciled  Foes, 
Did  with  my  wish  and  her  consent  conspire  : 


A  BLUSHING   ROSE  157 

Why  then  o'er-reachless  of  my  Love's  fruition, 

So  eagerly  pursued  with  rough  intent, 

So  dearly  purchast  with  performed  condition, 

Kept  I  my  rude  Virginity  unspent  ? 

Did  shee  not  sweetly  kiss  ?  and  sweetly  sing  ? 

And  sweetly  play  ?  and  all  to  move  my  pleasure  ? 

And  every  dalliance  use,  and  everything, 

And  show  my  sullen  Eyes  her  naked  Treasure  ? 
All  this  she  did,  I  wilfully  forbore  : 
And  why  ?    Because  methought  she  was  an  whore. 

The  sonnet  seems  to  represent  a  real  and  striking 
incident,  and  the  heroine  seems  educated,  or  at  least 
highly  accomplished — possibly  it  might  be  one  of  Mistress 
Mary's  unsuccessful  attempts.  But  no,  her  beauty  was 
"  as  the  blushing  Rose."  This  will  not  suit,  for  Mr. 
Tyler,  who  has  taken  great  interest  in  her,  and  has 
specially  examined  her  monumental  effigy  in  Gawsworth 
Church,  found  her  to  be  a  swarthy,  black-haired  damsel, 
with  thick,  sensuous  lips.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
during  the  circumstances  described  in  Herbert's  sonnet, 
I  should  say  that  a  warm  blush  would  naturally  suffuse 
her  cheeks,  so  she  might  have  been  like  a  deep-coloured 
rose  after  all.  In  any  case  I  accept  this  sonnet — as  I  do 
the  Shakespeare  Sonnets — as  Biography  and  not  Idealism. 
I  think  it  shows  young  Herbert  to  be  a  very  different 
stamp  of  man  from  that  rou^  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
who  thought  nothing  of  unseating  his  closest  friend 
Bacon  in  the  jousts  of  Venus  ; 

"  Ay  me  !  but  yet  thou  might'st  my  seat  forbear." 

—Sonnet  XLL  9. 

As  I  have  hinted  several  times,  Ben  Jonson  knew  as 
well  as  any  one  all  the  theatrical  and  general  scandal  of 
the  town,  and  he  seems  to  have  taken  delight  in  alluding 
to  it  in  his  various  plays.  He  knew  the  character  of 
Mary  Fitton,  and  was  well  acquainted  with  the  gossip 
about  her  at  his  Tavern  haunts.  He  had  a  shrewd  con- 
jecture that  young  William  Herbert  was  not 

"  The  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea." 


iS8      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

And  in  any  case  he  knew,  for  it  was  the  pubHc  property 
of  all  the  town  gossips,  that  young  Lord  Herbert  had 
found  his  lively  maid  of  honour  a  "  sea  of  trouble  "  to 
him — a  sea  that  had  given  up  its  dead  in  sorrow  and 
disgrace.  It  seems  pretty  clear  that  he  used  this  know- 
ledge, and  tried  to  amuse  the  public  with  hidden  allusions 
to  it,  in  his  Silent  Woman  of  1609,  just  about  the  time 
the  Shake-speare  Sonnets  were  brought  to  light.  He 
introduces  Sir  John  Daw  and  Sir  Amorous  La-Foole  in 
this  play,  and  he  did  not  make  it  a  very  hard  riddle  for 
the  spectators  to  guess.  We  are  not  nowadays  in  a 
position  to  get  as  sure  and  certain  a  grasp  of  all  that 
was  meant  as  those  who  listened  to  the  words  and  saw 
the  actions  of  the  players  ;  but  I  do  think  we  can  grasp 
Jack  Daw,  take  his  theatrical  feathers  from  him,  and  find 

— BACON. 

For  the  sake  of  my  American  readers  I  will  add  yet 
one  more  piece  of  evidence  connecting  Sir  John  Daw  with 
Bacon,  At  the  beginning  of  Act  V.  of  The  Silent  Woman 
one  of  the  female  characters  of  the  play  says,  "  Gentlemen, 
have  any  of  you  a  pen  and  ink  ?  "  To  this  Clericus, 
another  character  on  the  stage,  answers,  "  Not  I  in  troth, 
lady  ;  I  am  no  scrivener.  Then  Sir  John  Daw  intervenes 
with,  "  I  can  furnish  you  I  think,  lady."  And  the  lady 
leaves  with  Sir  John  to  get  what  she  has  asked  for.  Now 
it  is  a  notorious  fact  that  Bacon  had  a  scriptorium  and 
many  busy  penmen  in  it,  and  if  scrivener's  work  should 
be  required,  it  could  be  certainly  furnished  by  Bacon. 
But  it  is  when  Sir  John  Daw  and  the  lady  have  gone  for  the 
pen  and  ink,  that  the  interesting  American  allusion  is 
brought  forward. 

The  other  characters  go  on  talking  about  Sir  John  Daw 
directly  he  has  left  the  stage,  and  Sir  Amorous  La-Foole 
speaks  of  his  "  box  of  instruments,"  and  also  of  "  his  brass 
pens  and  black  lead,  to  draw  maps  of  every  place  and 
person  where  he  comes."     Then  says  Clericus  : 

C/^r.  How  maps  of  persons? 

La-Foole.  Yes,  Sir  of  Nomentack  when  he  was  here,  and  of  the 
Prince  of  Moldavia  and  of  his  mistress.  Mistress  Epicoene. 


AN   AMERICAN   INDIAN  159 

Now  how  many  Englishmen,  I  wonder,  know  the 
history  of  Nomentack  ?  Very  few  indeed.  But  Americans 
who  are  interested  in  early  Virginian  records  will  remem- 
ber him  well  enough. 

Nomentack,  or  more  properly  Namontack,  was  a  trusty 
servant  of  the  well-known  Indian  chief  Powhattan,  who 
was  the  father  of  the  still  better-known  Princess  Poca- 
hontas. Nomentack  is  said^  to  have  been  a  man  of  "  a 
shrewd  and  subtle  capacitie,"  and  when  Captain  Smith 
thought  of  returning  home,  this  "  trustie  "  native  was 
allowed  by  Powhattan  to  go  to  England,  while  one  of  the 
Smith's  men  agreed  to  stay  with  the  Indians,  as  a  kind 
of  exchange  of  hostages.  Hardly  anything  seems  recorded 
of  Nomentack's  stay  in  England.  All  we  know  of  him  is 
that  he  was  murdered  by  an  Indian  at  the  Bermudas  in 
1610  when  returning  to  his  country  with  the  English 
expedition. 

Now  as  The  Silent  Woman  was  first  acted  in  1609,  the 
dates  agree  exactly,  for  Nomentack  had  only  just  come 
and  gone  again,  and  who  was  more  likely  to  take  an 
interest  in  this  American  Indian  from  Virginia  than  Sir 
Francis  Bacon,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Virginian 
Trading  and  Discovery  Adventurers  at  the  very  time  ? 
Indeed  Bacon  had  taken  interest  in  Indians  before  this 
in  1595.  For  when  Raleigh  had  brought  an  Indian  from 
Guiana  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  who  but  Bacon  straight- 
way utilised  the  fact  in  his  Masque  of  the  Indian  Prince, 
who  had  come  from  the  mouth  of  the  Amazon  to  be  cured 
of  his  blindness  in  the  sunshine  of  the  Queen's  favour  and 
in  the  healing  light  of  her  kindly  eyes.  The  Masque  was 
played  on  Nov.  17,  1595,  when  Raleigh  and  the  Indian 
had  only  very  recently  arrived.  So  Bacon  struck  the  iron 
while  it  was  hot.  He  seems,  according  to  Ben  Jonson,  to 
have  done  the  same  in  1609  with  regard  to  the  Virginian 
Nomentack,  for  why  in  the  world  should  Nomentack's 
name  be  dragged  thus  into  the  play,  except  as  a  hint  that 
Bacon  was  being  aimed  at  as  a  celebrity  known  for  his 
interest  in  matters  Virginian  at  the  time.  This  know- 
ledge of  Bacon's  habits  seems  to  have  died  out  in  the 


i6o      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

present  day.  Spedding  in  his  immense  and  exhaustive 
work  never  aUudes  to  it.  But  I  have  noticed  one  or  two 
things  which  throw  a  good  Hght  on  it.  Bacon's  receipts 
and  disbursements  for  the  months  of  July-September  1618 
have  been  fortunately  preserved  among  the  State  Papers. 
We  read  there  in  the  column  for  disbursements  prepared 
by  his  secretary : 

Sept.  I,  161 8.  To  one  that  went  to  Verginia  by  your 

Lordship's  order       .        .        .        .     ;^2    4    o 

Sept,  11,1618.  To  George  the  Verginian,  by  your  Lord- 
ship's order o  10    o 

And  in  1620,  in  a  speech  in  Parliament,  Bacon,  while 
referring  to  the  importance  of  the  plantation  of  Virginia, 
said  :  "  Sometimes  a  grain  of  mustard  seed  proves  a  great 
tree.    Who  can  tell  ?  " 

Though  it  is  hardly  known  or  mentioned,  the  fact 
remains  that  Bacon  held  very  strong  views  as  to  the 
importance  of  maintaining  and  increasing  our  plantations 
in  America,  and  that  he  worked  hard,  both  by  his  influence 
and  by  his  money  subscriptions,  to  lay  the  foundations  of 
a  strong  colony  beyond  the  seas.  The  grain  of  mustard 
seed  has  indeed  become  a  great  tree,  and  I  think  the 
millions  of  English-speaking  people  who  now  dwell  beneath 
the  branches  of  it,  will  rejoice  to  hear  that  the  very 
greatest  master  of  their  native  tongue  wished  to  make 
them  a  strong  nation,  and  foresaw  their  future  greatness. 
And  he  not  only  wished,  but  gave  effect  to  the  wish,  for 
there  is  evidence  beyond  all  suspicion,  as  given  above, 
that  in  the  course  of  one  fortnight  he  helped  to  send  off 
a  new  colonist  (and  men  were  wanted  then),  and  to  relieve 
by  his  charity  a  needy  Virginian.* 

Among  the  other  estimable  and  surpassing  qualities  of 
Francis  Bacon  was  this  one — he  was  a  true  and  foreseeing 
patriot.     He,   Southampton,    Herbert,   and    other    sub- 

*  Since  writing  the  above  I  have  read  the  first  volume  of  the  Cambridge 
Modern  History — The  Renaissance  (1902).  I  was  both  surprised  and  pleased 
to  find  in  the  chapter  on  the  New  World  (pp.  62-66)  the  highest  praise 
awarded  to  Francis  Bacon,  for  the  great,  wise,  and  almost  prophetic  interest 
he  took  in  the  New  World  and  its  future.  We  are  told  that  "American  man 
in  his  physical  and  ethnological  aspect  strongly  attracted  Bacon's  attention." 


DAMON   AND   PYTHIAS  i6i 

scribers  to  the  expeditions  to  the  New  World,  together 
with  Raleigh  especially,  must  be  reckoned  among  the  true 
founders  of  the  United  States.  Was  this  vast  American 
continent  to  become  mainly  English  or  mainly  Spanish  ? 
that  was  their  feeling,  and  they  worked  both  in  purse  and 
person  for  English  predominance.  But  my  American 
cousins  have  taken  me  a  long  way  from  Ben  Jonson,  and 
I  must  return. 

And  just  as  Ben  Jonson  tried  to  amuse  the  gossips 
among  his  audience  in  1609  with  allusions  to  Bacon, 
Herbert,  and  Mistress  Fitton,  who  had  lately  been  married, 
so  I  think  that  in  one  of  his  later  plays,  Bartholomew  Fair, 
in  1614,  he  treated  his  audience  to  a  pretty  plain  exposi- 
tion of  that  remarkable  triangular  love-picture  of  Bacon, 
Southampton,  and  the  First  Lady  of  doubtful  character, 
which  meets  us  in  the  Sonnets. 

Jonson  has  two  characters  in  this  play,  Bartholomew 
Fair  J  whom  he  names  Damon  and  Pythias,  and  describes 
them  as  "  two  faithful  friends  of  the  Bankside,"  who 
**  have  but  one  drab."  Considering  the  mention  made 
of  Burbage  and  the  Bankside,  and  that  it  was  Jonson 
who  put  in  this  remark,  and  that  he,  by  our  hypothesis, 
knew  pretty  well  what  was  going  on,  it  seems  likely 
enough  that  the  strange  tale  of  the  Sonnets  is  here  alluded 
to.  But  the  strangest  part  of  the  history  is,  that  if  the 
facts  of  the  Sonnets  were  known  well  enough  in  16 14  to 
form  part  of  a  stage  allusion  like  the  above,  how  are  we 
to  account  for  the  1640  edition  of  the  Sonnets  being  so 
manifestly  ignorant  of  the  true  state  of  the  case  as  to 
suppose  all  the  Sonnets  to  be  addressed  to  a  woman  ? 

This  Damon  and  Pythias  allusion  of  1614  is  noticed 
by  few  critics  ;  but  Elze,  Dowden,  and  Tyler  seem  to 
think  that  Shakespeare  and  Herbert  may  possibly  be 
meant.  No  one  has  ever  thought  of  suggesting  Bacon 
for  Damon  and  Southampton  for  Pythias,  but  when  I 
tried  it,  I  found  the  phraseology  of  the  passage  so  curiously 
suggestive  that  I  give  the  summary  here. 

After  some  quarrelsome  words  to  each  other,  in  which 
Damon  (Bacon  ?)  says  :   "  Thou  hast  lain  with  her  thyself, 

L 


i62       PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

ril  prove  it  in  this  place ^^^  they  subsequently  go  off  to 
breakfast  together.  {Exeunt.)  Presently  Leatherhead, 
who  is  the  showman  of  the  Fair,  says  : 

"  Now  here  come  the  friends  again  Pythias  and  Damon, 
And  under  their  cloaks  they  have  of  bacon  a  gammon." 

The  two  friends  Damon  and  Pythias  now  observe  the 
presence  of  Hero  (their  *'  drab  "),  and  Damon  (i.e.  Bacon) 
says  :   "  ^Tis  Hero.''     To  which  Leatherhead  replies  : 

YeSy  but  she  will  not  be  taken 
After  sack  and  fresh  herring  with  your 
Dunmow  bacon. 

Pythias.   You  lie^  ifs  Westfabian. 

Leatherhead.   Westphaliany  you  should  say. 

These  "  bacon  "  allusions  are,  to  say  the  least,  un- 
expected, and  seem  forced  in  for  a  purpose,  but  I  do  not 
press  them  as  either  direct  or  convincing — they  are  perhaps 
only  an  odd  coincidence.  Westfabian  seems  puzzling — 
I  have  met  with  the  word  elsewhere  in  Jonson's  plays  but 
cannot  find  the  reference.  Doubtless  it  referred  to  some 
current  joke  of  the  period. 

Hero,  the  drab  of  Damon  and  Pythias,  seems  to  have 
been,  like  most  gay  women,  rather  particular  in  her  eating. 
No  bacon  flitches  even  of  Dunmow  will  take  her  fancy. 
Bacon  at  best  was  peasants'  food,  yokels'  food.  She  has 
been  used  to  sack  and  fresh  herring,  and  such  other 
appetising  "  snacks  "  as  gallants  are  wont  to  regale  their 
lady-loves  with  at  the  best  places  of  "  ordinary  "  resort. 
This  sounds  more  like  an  allusion  to  some  Lais  or  some 
fast  citizen's  wife,  who  enjoyed  life  when  her  husband 
was  away,  than  to  the  Queen's  young  maid  of  honour. 
Moreover,  Sonnet  cxxxviii.,  by  its  variations  as  pubhshed 
in  1599  in  the  Passionate  Pilgrim  by  the  pirate  Jaggard, 
shows  the  lady  not  to  be  young,  though  she  was  fond  of 
saying  so. 

I  claim,  having  now  brought  these  various  distant 
and  delicate,  or  rather  indelicate,  allusions  into  as  clear  a 
light  as  my  limited  knowledge  of  Elizabethan  literature 
will  allow,  that  a  fair  case  is  made  out  for  Sir  John  Daw 
and  Damon  being  Bacon,   and  Sir  Amorous   La-Foole 


THE   SILENT  WOMAN  163 

Herbert.  In  that  case  Hero  would  be  the  common  drab, 
the  loose-legged  Lais  whom  Marston  tells  us  about  in 
connection  with  the  fair-haired  Cyprian,  gallant  Briscus. 
She  might  even  be  the  brunette  (Brownetta),  the  "  chough 
with  a  white  bill,"  the  Dark  Lady  with  a  white  face 
(powdered  ?),  who  seems  to  have  made  her  husband  a 
cornuto  without  much  fuss  about  it.  Anyhow,  we  have 
Marston' s  authority  that  this  Lais  was  the  one  "  for  whom 
good  Tubrio  took  the  mortal  stab  "  ;  and  if  Tubrio  in 
this  phrase  be  not  poor  Marlowe,  I  know  not  who  he  can 
be.  So  Hero  would  be  a  good  name  for  Jonson  to  have 
chosen,  if  he  knew  that  Marlowe  had  been  her  Leander 
and  lost  his  life  for  her  sake. 

But  the  Epicoene  or  Silent  Woman  seems  a  different 
lady,  who  married  after  the  scandal,  and  Sir  Amorous 
seems  a  different  personage  from  the  Pythias  or  Briscus, 
who  both  stand  better  for  Southampton.  Here  Herbert 
and  Mary  Fitton  take  their  places  very  suitably,  while 
neither  of  them  would  suit  the  characters  of  Briseus  and 
the  "  drab  "  Lais  depicted  by  Marston  in  1598,  for  the 
date  is  too  early  for  young  Herbert,  who  had  not  yet 
come  to  town  permanently,  and  Mary  Fitton  at  that  date 
was  a  young  maid  of  honour  standing  well  with  her  Queen, 
But  I  say  again  these  matters  are  neither  so  clear  nor  so 
important  as  is  the  evidence  for  Francis  Bacon's  identity 
in  these  shady  concerns  ;  and  that  I  claim  is  fairly  estab- 
lished. 

And  there  is  some  novel  evidence  adduced  concerning 
Mistress  Fitton  and  the  Dark  Lady  and  their  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  in  our  remarks  on  Sonnet  cxxxvil. 
But  I  would  add  here  that  since  I  wrote  my  extract 
above  from  the  Silent  Woman  I  have  carefully  examined 
Mr.  Tyler's  researches  into  the  history  of  Mistress  Mary 
Fitton  in  Chap.  VIII.  of  his  Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  and 
find  they  corroborate  Ben  Jonson's  broad  allusions  of 
1609,  both  chronologically  and  generally,  to  such  an  extent 
as  almost  to  settle  the  question  whether  Epicoene ,  or  the 
Silent  Woman,  refers  to  Mary  Fitton  or  not. 

I  am  surprised  that  neither  Mr.  Tyler  nor  any  other 


i64       PROOFS   OF   BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

investigator  has  brought  this  play  to  bear  on  the  vexed 
question  of  the  Sonnets.  Mr.  Tyler's  researches  into 
Mistress  Fitton's  biography  are  much  too  long  to  quote 
here,  but  his  whole  Chap.  VIII.  (pp.  73-92)  is  worth 
reading  in  this  connection.  He  shows  she  was  married 
to  Captain  Polwhele  in  1607,  when  between  twenty-nine 
and  thirty  years  of  age,  and  that  she  had  probably  been 
married  when  very  young  and  the  marriage  made  null  or 
disallowed.  Ben's  play  came  out  in  1609,  and  he  refers 
to  the  Epiccene  woman  as  being  married:  "Tut,  she 
is  married  now,  and  you  cannot  hurt  her  with  any 
report  "  ;  and  the  Sonnets  had  come  out  this  same  year, 
all  tending  to  corroborate  the  Bacon- Herbert -Fitton 
allusions,  which  Jonson,  though  not  alone  in  the  know- 
ledge, was  alone  in  daring  to  express.  Moreover,  there 
is  testimony  extant  of  the  very  best  kind  which,  although 
only  negative,  yet  goes  far  to  show  that  the  theory  of 
the  Shakespeare  and  Herbert  intimacy  has  little  or  no 
foundation. 

John  Aubrey,  the  Wiltshire  antiquary,  has  a  great 
deal  to  say  about  the  various  members  of  the  Pembroke 
family — one  of  the  chief  in  Wiltshire — and  also  many 
anecdotes  about  Shakespeare.  In  fact,  lively  gossip  about 
both  appears  prominently  in  Aubrey's  Lives  of  Eminent 
Persons,  but  nothing  is  said  about  their  being  acquainted 
or  associated  with  one  another.  If  there  had  been  a 
tradition  of  any  such  connection,  Aubrey  would  almost 
certainly  have  heard  of  it  and  recorded  it,  as  he  was  an 
inveterate  gossip-monger.  I  think,  therefore,  Shake- 
speare ma}''  be  dismissed,  but  not  Herbert  {pace  Mr.  Lee), 
for  besides  the  proof  from  Pembroke's  letters,  which  we 
shall  hear  presently,  it  does  not  seem  to  me  altogether 
impossible  that  Bacon,  who  could  never  pass  by  a  jest, 
should  have  scribbled  on  the  cover  of  his  private  MS. 
copy  of  the  Sonnets  (or  on  some  page  of  his  copy) — in 
joking  allusion  to  the  only  lover  of  Mary  Fitton  who  suc- 
ceeded in  becoming  a  father — those  mystifying  words, 
"  To  Mr.  W.  H.,  the  Sole  Begetter."  What  if  this  copy 
fell  into  Thorpe's  possession  and  accounted  for  his  odd 


REASONABLE   PROBABILITY  165 

dedication  ?     I  have  referred  to  this  more  fully  in  my 
note  to  Sonnet  cxxxviii. 

Neither  can  we  dismiss  Herbert  on  Mr.  Lee's  assertion 
that  he  did  not  possess  the  requisite  goods  look  or  youthful 
beauty.  We  know  differently,  and  prefer  the  statement 
of  a  contemporary,  Francis  Davidson,  who  says  in  his 
dedication  to  Pembroke  of  his  Poetical  Rhapsody  : 

"  Whose  outward  shape,  though  it  most  lovely  bee, 
Doth  in  faire  Robes,  a  fairer  Soule  attire." 

But  surely  we  need  not  dwell  longer  on  this  point  just 
now.  That  Shakespeare  the  play-actor  should  have  a 
mistress  among  the  maids  of  honour,  and  that  Pembroke, 
the  supreme  aristocrat  and  rising  favourite  at  court,  should 
have  first  joined  himself  in  the  closest  bonds  of  far  more 
than  ordinary  friendship  with  an  older  man  in  a  much 
inferior  social  position — an  intimacy  more  like  love  than 
friendship — and  then,  treacherously  unfaithful  to  the 
closest  of  bonds,  robbed  the  actor  of  his  mistress,  and 
admitted  the  paternity  of  the  bastard  that  ensued — well, 
to  state  it  is  enough  almost  to  refute  it.  And,  as  we  said, 
there  is  no  evidence  whatever  for  such  a  peculiar  friendship, 
or  indeed  for  any  particular  intimacy  between  Shakespeare 
and  Pembroke  at  all.  But  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
seems  to  allude  to  such  things  personally,  and  the  author 
of  the  Plays,  who  is  the  same  man,  not  only  returns  to  the 
theme  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  (ii.  i),  but  has  given  a 
variation  of  the  same  subject  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona.  The  orthodox  Shakespearians  have  been  put  to 
such  straits  that  many  of  them  have  declared  that  the 
Sonnets  dealing  with  this  triangular  tragedy  are  merely 
poetical  conceits  with  which  Shakespeare  amused  himself 
and  his  private  friends,  but  had  no  facts  behind  them. 
My  point  is,  that  if  we  take  Bacon  as  the  writer  of  the 
Sonnets  and  Plays,  the  whole  matter  is  moved  from  the 
region  of  the  wellnigh  impossible,  to  the  region  of  reason- 
able probability,  and  more  so  still  when  we  come  to 
Pembroke's  written  letters. 

So  that  there  may  be  no  mistake  about  my  views 


i66      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

regarding  Southampton,  Pembroke,  and  the  author  of  the 
Sonnets,  I  will  here  say  categorically  that  I  am  quite 
opposed  to  the  opinion  of  those  critics  who  hold  that  there 
is  but  one  male  friend  in  the  Sonnets — a  Mr.  W.  H., 
corresponding  to  William  Herbert.  And  I  am  also  quite 
opposed  to  the  view  that  the  Earl  of  Southampton  was 
the  one  male  friend  in  the  Sonnets,  and  that  William 
Herbert  was  not  in  the  Sonnets,  and  in  no  close  intimacy 
with  the  author  at  all.  I  hold  it  to  be  a  fundamental 
fallacy,  and  an  irretrievable  error,  to  try  and  read  one 
friendship  backwards  or  forwards  through  all  the  Sonnets, 
when  there  are  two  entirely  distinct  series.  Both  of  these 
noblemen  were  patrons  of  literature  ;  both  were  personal 
friends  of  the  author,  Southampton  being  the  first  by 
many  years — at  least  five,  and  more  likely  eight  years. 

The  earlier  Sonnets,  which  were  consecrated  to 
Southampton  by  the  personal  love  of  the  author,  are 
profaned  by  being  mixed  up  with  the  latter  Sonnets  as 
commonly  interpreted.  Those  who  begin  with  Herbert 
and  the  date  of  1598  are  bound  to  read  the  Sonnets  back- 
wards, and  only,  as  Gerald  Massey  well  says,  "  obfuscate 
the  Sonnets  and  confuse  the  minds  of  their  readers."  I 
still  think  Massey 's  Southampton  proof  in  his  scarce  book 
of  1888  the  best  extant  for  the  early  Procreation  Sonnets, 
and  putting  Bacon  for  Shakespeare,  as  I  do,  it  seems 
strengthened  rather  than  otherwise. 

As  for  Essex,  the  third  nobleman  who  was  so  closely 
intimate  with  Francis  Bacon,  there  are  but  few  possible 
allusions  in  the  Sonnets,  and  these  indirect  and  doubtful. 
But  the  Plays,  as  is  well  known,  have  several  direct  and 
undoubted  references  to  Essex,  especially  that  one  in 
Henry  V.  which  augured  a  glorious  return  of  Essex  from 
Ireland,  with  the  rebellion  crushed,  and  all  London 
enthusiastically  greeting  the  conquering  hero — a  most 
useful  passage  for  dating  the  play.  And  then  there  is 
the  play  of  Richard  II.  and  the  long  tale  of  how  the  Queen 
suspected  treason  in  it,  and  how  much  it  was  supposed  to 
help  the  rebellious  faction  and  rising  of  Essex  and  his 
followers.     But  in  the  whole  story  there  is  not  a  single 


THE  HYPHEN  167 

word  about  Shakespeare's  authorship  of  the  play,  nor  is 
his  name  even  mentioned.  This  seems  unaccountable  if 
Shakespeare  were  even  only  the  suspected  author  or 
adapter ;  whereas  we  know  what  an  awkward  matter  it 
was  for  Bacon  when  he  was  called  upon  to  deal  with  it 
officially.  He  even  suggested  that  people  might  say  it 
was  one  of  his  own  tales. 

But  beyond  such  suggestive  evidence  as  we  get  from 
the  Plays,  there  was  in  160 1,  just  after  the  tragic  execution 
of  Essex,  which  had  been  carried  out  without  a  word  of 
reprieve  from  the  imperious  and  sensitive  Queen,  a  poetical 
essay  on  The  Phoenix  and  Turtle^  published  in  an  appendix 
to  Robert  Chester's  Lovers  Martyr,  or  Rosalindas  Com- 
plaint (1601).  This  "  deep-brained  poem"  was  signed  in 
full  Wilham  Shake-speare,  and  although  it  is  a  most  enig- 
matic composition,  and  was  evidently  to  be  so  intended, 
yet  there  is  no  better  solution  before  the  public  than  that 
of  Dr.  Grosart,  who  was  the  first  to  suggest  that  the 
Phoenix  was  Queen  EHzabeth  and  the  male  Turtle,  Essex. 
These  two  were  known  to  be  lovers,  and  just  then  (1601) 
there  was  no  other  tragical  event  which  was  so  likely  to 
form  the  subject  of  this  strange  allegory,  if  indeed  it  had 
personal  allusions  at  all.  But  in  any  case,  I  venture  to 
say  that  this  most  peculiar  and  able  poem  seems  much 
I  more  akin  to  Bacon  than  to  Shakespeare.  Mr.  Lee  cannot 
^''  make  more  out  of  it  than  any  one  else  can,  and  adds, 

**  Happily  Shakespeare  wrote  nothing  else  of  like  char- 
acter." 

I  think  it  was  far  more  Hkely  to  come  from  the  fertile 
brain  of  him  who  was  cogitating  at  an  early  age  upon  such 
subjects  as  the  Greatest  Birth  of  Time,  the  Male  Birth  of 
Time  (Partus  Masculus  Temporis),  and  other  recondite 
and  allied  matters,  than  from  the  active  and  shrewd 
money-getting  factotum,  "Shaxper,  late  of  Stratford-on- 
Avon."  Moreover,  it  is  signed  Shake-speare,  with  a 
decided  hyphen.  We  are  not  surely  to  be  classed  with 
cranks  if  we  suggest  that  there  may  be  some  mystification 
here.  This  is  by  no  means  the  only  place  where  this 
suspicious    and    uncalled-for    hyphen    appears.      It    is 


i68      PROOFS   OF  BACONIAN   AUTHORSHIP 

as  large  as  life  on  the  title-page  of  shakes-speare's 
Sonnets  in  the  original  edition  of  1609,  and  Ben  Jonson 
is,  I  think,  clearly  aiming  at  this  hyphen  when  he  speaks 
of  Cri-spinus  or  Cri-spinas  in  his  Poetaster. 

Finally,  as  far  as  Essex  and  Shakespeare  are  con- 
cerned, it  is  admitted  that  there  is  not  a  scintilla  of 
evidence  that  they  were  ever  known  to  each  other,  or 
even  brought  casually  together  on  any  occasion.  On  the 
other  hand,  Francis  Bacon  and  his  brother  Anthony  were 
for  many  years  most  devoted  friends  of  Essex,  and  the 
correspondence  between  them  by  letter  and  in  other  ways 
is  extant  and  well  known. 

We  have  next  to  deal  with  letters  that  passed  between 
Bacon,  Southampton,  Pembroke,  and  Essex,  and  there- 
fore will  say  nothing  more  of  the  letters  of  Essex  at 
present. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   PROOF  FROM   CONTEMPORARY  LETTERS  AND   BOOKS 

It  is  always  a  great  advantage  in  a  difficult  controversy 
like  the  present  one  to  get  upon  firm  and  undisputed 
ground.  The  disturbing  thought  has  sometimes  crossed 
my  mind  that  perhaps,  after  all,  this  Bacon  v.  Shake- 
speare war  was  really  only  a  Skiamachia,  a  contest  in 
which,  for  the  most  part,  only  hazy  and  indefinite  per- 
sonalities were  concerned.  Especially  in  the  Sonnets  it 
has  often  seemed  as  if  the  chief  personages  could  hardly 
ever  be  detected  walking  in  the  clear  light  of  day  upon 
the  common  earth,  but  seem  always,  more  or  less,  creatures 
of  hypothesis  or  of  the  historic  imagination.  For  instance, 
what  do  we  really  know  of  Mr.  W.  H.  except  per  hypo- 
thesin  ?  May  not  the  Sonnets  be,  as  some  have  suggested, 
poetic  conceits,  Platonic  idealisms  after  the  ItaHan  school 
then  in  fashion,  or  the  mere  vapourings  of  a  "  Pupil  Pen  " 
of  some  youthful  genius  in  those  Renaissance  days  when 
such  poets  were  very  plentiful  ?  When,  too,  I  saw 
biographies  of  Shakespeare  which  filled  six  or  seven 
hundred  pages  of  close  type,  and  afterwards  found  out 
by  careful  search  the  very  few  personal  memoranda  these 
bulky  "  Lives  of  Shakespeare  "  were  built  up  on,  I  began 
to  think  seriously  that  there  must  be  more  fiction  and 
imagination  in  such  productions  than  honest,  sober  fact. 
These  various  considerations  very  nearly  induced  me 
to  lay  aside  all  thought  of  entering  upon  such  a  shadowy 
realm.  But  in  the  course  of  my  reading  I  met  with 
several  letters  which  had  passed  between  Bacon  and 
Essex  and  Southampton,  and  also  letters  of  Pembroke 
and  Essex  to  Cecil.  The  originals  had  been  preserved 
either  at  Hatfield  House  in  Lord  Salisbury's  custody,  or 

with  the  public  records  of  our  country  in  the  State  Paper 

X69 


lyo   PROOF  FROM  LETTERS  AND  BOOKS 

Office,  or  in  the  British  Museum.  Here  I  felt  I  was 
dealing  not  with  the  shadows,  but  with  the  very  sub- 
stance of  history.  Here  at  least  I  was  on  terra  firma. 
Such  records  and  such  custodians  were  beyond  suspicion. 
They  provided  me  with  useful  and  suggestive  evidence  for 
Bacon  which  I  had  not  noticed  elsewhere.  So  I  regained 
fresh  confidence ;  and  in  spite  of  the  manner  in  which 
heretical  opinions  are  generally  received  by  critics,  I  will 
go  on  my  way,  unpromising  as  it  is,  for  I  think  we  are 
here  dealing  with  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  amazing 
problems  of  literature. 

The  first  letter  that  I  bring  forward  shall  be  one  from 
Pembroke,  dated  June  19,  1601,  a  few  months  after 
the  Mary  Fit  ton  scandal.  His  short  time  of  imprison- 
ment in  the  Fleet  for  his  serious  offence — for  such  it 
was  where  a  maid  of  honour  was  the  victim — had  been 
endured,  and  Pembroke  was  anxious  to  obtain  per- 
mission to  go  abroad  and  put  his  troubles  and  disgrace 
behind  him  for  a  time,  until  the  scandal  had  blown  away. 
The  Queen  seems  to  have  given  him  the  required  per- 
mission to  go,  and  then  revoked  it.  So  he  writes  a  letter 
to  that  important  political  personage  Cecil,  Lord  Burgh- 
ley's  son,  containing  the  following  passage,  curiously 
connected  with  our  subject : 

"  I  cannot  forbeare  telling  of  you  that  yet  I  endure  a  grievous 
Imprisonment,  and  so  (though  not  in  the  world's  misjudging 
opinion)  yet  in  myself,  I  feel  still  the  same  or  a  wors  punishment, 
for  doe  you  account  him  a  freeman  that  is  restrained  from  coming 
where  he  most  desires  to  be,  and  debar'd  from  enjoying  that 
comfort  in  respect  of  which  all  other  earthly  joys  seeme  miseries, 
though  we  have  a  whole  world  els  to  walk  in  ?  In  this  vile  case 
am  I,  whose  miserable  fortune  it  is,  to  be  banished  from  the 
sight  of  her,  in  whose  favor  the  ballance  consisted  of  my  misery 
or  happines,  and  whose  Incomparable  beauty  was  the  onely 
Sonne  of  my  little  world,  and  alone  had  power  to  give  it  life  and 
heate.  Now  judge  you  whether  this  be  a  bondage  or  no :  for 
my  owne  part  I  protest  I  think  my  fortune  as  slavish  as  any  man's 
that  lives  fettered  in  a  galley.  You  have  sayd  you  loved  me, 
and  I  have  often  found  it;  but  a  greater  testimony  you  can 
never  show  of  it  then  to  use  your  best  means  to  ridd  me  out  of 


PEMBROKE'S   LETTER  171 

this  hell,  and  then  shall  I  account  you  the  restorer  of  that  which 
was  farre  dearer  unto  me  than  my  life." 

Now  a  comparison  of  the  wording  of  this  letter  with 
several  of  the  Shakespeare  Sonnets  brings  to  notice  many 
unexpected  analogies.  If  this  resemblance  stood  alone, 
not  much  perhaps  could  be  made  of  the  likeness  between 
Sonnet  xxxiii.,  line  9, 

"  Even  so  my  sun  one  early  morn  did  shine," 

and  "  the  onely  sonne  of  my  little  world  "  in  the  letter. 
But  the  most  remarkable  analogy  and  correspondence  is 
with  Sonnets  LVii.  and  LViii.  Mr.  Tyler  has  worked  this 
out  carefully  and  at  some  length  in  his  book  (pp.  60,  61), 
and  being  a  most  orthodox  believer  in  the  traditional 
authorship  of  the  Sonnets,  ends  thus  :  "  These  various 
resemblances  are  remarkable  and  striking,  and  as  the 
letter  was  written  from  London,  the  possibility  may 
suggest  itself  that,  if  it  was  written  by  the  hand  of  Pem- 
broke, it  was  really  composed  by  Shakespeare" 

The  words  I  have  italicised  seem  very  suggestive  to  me 
of  something  that  clearly  did  not  enter  into  Mr.  Tyler's 
thoughts.  I  should  say  it  was  not  Shakespeare  that  com- 
posed a  feigned  letter  for  his  friend,  for  from  all  we  hear 
and  know  he  was  about  the  last  person  to  write  a  long 
letter,  feigned  or  not,  to  any  one  ;  but  I  should  say  it  was 
far  more  likely  to  be  composed  by  Bacon.  Why,  he  was 
the  very  man  who  delighted  in  this  rather  peculiar  vein 
of  literature.  We  have  several  examples  of  his  handiwork 
admitted  to  be  genuine  by  the  best  and  most  unimpeach- 
able authority — Bacon's  own  statements  and  confession. 
And  there  are  many  more  of  this  same  semi-fictitious 
character,  which,  although  never  acknowledged  by  Bacon, 
have  been  accepted  by  Mr.  Spedding  as  bearing  so  pal- 
pably the  marks  of  Bacon's  style,  that  these  are  given  to 
him  in  that  carefully  edited  work,  Spedding's  Life  and 
Letters  of  Francis  Bacon.  Who  so  likely  as  Bacon  to 
write  a  letter  for  his  friend  Pembroke,  when  he  was  so 
worried  and  so  anxious,  to  put  things  in  the  best  light 


172   PROOF  FROM  LETTERS  AND  BOOKS 

for  Cecil  and  the  Queen  to  read  ?  Indeed,  Bacon  had  done 
the  same  thing  several  times  before  on  behalf  of  his  friend 
Essex,  and  perhaps  for  Southampton  too,  and  must  have 
been  quite  an  old  hand  at  it.  The  choice  of  Cecil,  Bacon's 
cousin,  as  the  recipient  of  the  letter  seems  also  to  point 
to  Bacon.  But  enough  has  been  gained  if  we  have  suc- 
ceeded in  placing  ourselves  on  the  firm  ground  of  an  un- 
doubted letter  of  Pembroke  still  extant,  and  in  finding  an 
evident  connection  both  of  phraseology  and  thought  with 
the  Shakespeare  Sonnets.  And  as  we  are  told  on  very 
high  authority  that  there  was  only  the  slightest  intimacy 
between  Pembroke  and  Shakespeare — just  an  official 
recognition,  perhaps,  and  no  evidence  of  anything  further 
— we  are  led  to  look  for  a  more  likely  man  upon  whom  to 
father  the  inspired  epistle  to  Cecil ;  and  I  think  all  who 
are  unprejudiced  will  look  (oculis  irretortis)  in  one  direction 
only,  and  find  their  quest. 

Next  let  us  come  to  the  letters  of  Essex.  Here  again 
we  are  upon  firm  historic  ground,  and  we  shall  find  Bacon 
pointed  out  as  the  far  more  probable  author  of  the  Sonnets. 

We  will  begin  with  the  evidence  of  a  strict  Shake- 
spearian, who  was  known  to  be  intensely  anti-Baconian. 
It  can  therefore  be  accepted  with  the  greatest  confidence 
as  not  being  prejudiced  evidence  in  Bacon's  favour.  Our 
authority  is  dealing  with  the  "  sugred  sonnets  "  and  the 
"  private  friends  "  who  knew  of  them,  and  he  considers 
that  Essex  was  one  of  these  private  friends.  Seeing  that 
Bacon  knew  Essex  so  very  intimately,  of  course  I  quite 
agree.     He  goes  on  thus  : 

"  In  the  letters  and  verses  of  Essex  will  be  found  thoughts 
and  expressions  which  almost  prove  his  acquaintance  with  the 
Sonnets  in  MS.  In  a  letter  to  the  Queen,  written  from  Croydon 
in  the  year  1595  or  1596,  there  occurs  a  likeness  remarkable 
enough  to  suggest  that  Essex  was  a  reader  of  the  Sonnets  as  they 
were  written.  The  Earl  speaks,  in  absence  from  the  Queen, 
when  he  is  about  to  remount  his  horse  for  a  gallop.  He  writes  : 
*  The  delights  of  this  place  cannot  make  me  unmindful  of  one  in 
whose  sweet  company  I  have  joyed  so  much  as  the  happiest  man 
doth  in  his  highest  contentment,  and  if  my  horse  could  run  as  fast 


ESSEX'S   LETTER  173 

as  my  thoughts  do  fiy,  I  would  as  often  make  mine  eyes  rich  in 
beholding  the  treasure  of  my  love.^  It  is  superfluous  to  point  out 
the  resemblance  to  the  thought  in  two  of  the  Sonnets." 

I  suppose  Sonnets  L.  and  li.  are  meant.  He  then 
takes  another  letter : 

"  In  Essex's  letter  of  advice  to  the  young  Earl  of  Rutland, 
1595,  there  are  one  or  two  touches  that  look  like  reminiscences 
of  the  early  Sonnets.  Shakespeare  says  to  his  young  friend, 
Sonnet  liv.,  after  speaking  of  his  outward  graces  : 

'  Oh  how  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous  seem^ 
By  that  sweet  ornament  that  truth  doth  give,'  &c. 

Essex  tells  his  young  friend — *  Some  of  these  things  may  serve 
for  ornaments,  and  all  of  them  for  delights,  but  the  greatest 
ornament  is  the  inward  beauty  of  the  mind. 

"Again,  in  a  letter  to  the  Queen  dated  May  1600,  Essex 
writes :  *  Four  whole  days  have  I  meditated,  most  dear  and 
adored  sovereign,  on  these  words  that  there  are  two  kinds  of 
angels — the  one  good,  the  other  evil;  and  that  your  Majesty 
wishes  your  servant  to  be  accompanied  by  the  good;  which 
sounds  very  like  an  echo  of  the  144th  Sonnet.  Of  course  the 
Earl  might  have  seen  this  Sonnet  in  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  the 
year  before,  but  I  hold  that  his  acquaintanceship  was  much  closer 
than  that ;  here  is  yet  stronger  proof. 

"In  Shakespeare's  Sonnet  xxxv.,  the  speaker  excuses  the 
person  addressed  because  '■all  men  make  faults,^  and  in  a  Sonnet 
written  by  the  Earl  of  Essex  'in  his  trouble,'  the  speaker  says 
^  All  men^s  faults  do  teach  her  to  suspect,^  .  .  .  The  thought  and 
expression  of  Shakespeare  must  have  been  in  the  mind  of  Essex 
to  have  been  so  curiously  turned."  * 

My  comment  on  the  above  is  this  :  whether  the  like- 
nesses be  strong  or  faint,  they  point  to  Bacon  much  more 
than  to  Shakespeare.  Especially  is  this  so  in  the  case  of 
the  letter  to  the  young  Earl  of  Rutland  in  1595.  This 
letter  is  really  one  of  a  set  of  three  addressed  by  Essex  as 
advice  to  the  young  Earl  of  Rutland  when  going  on  his 
travels.  Now,  these  are  all  shown  clearly  by  Mr.  Spedding 
to  be  full  of  Bacon's  phrases  and  turns  of  thought,  and  to 
have  been  written  by  Bacon  for  Essex  ;  and  therefore  Mr. 

*  Massey,  Sonnets ^  ist  ed.,  p.  464. 


174   PROOF  FROM  LETTERS  AND  BOOKS 

Spedding  actually  includes  them,  in  brackets,  in  his  edition 
of  Francis  Bacon's  Letters  and  Life  (ii.  pp.  6-20).  So  Bacon 
was  making  use  of  his  own  unpublished  MS.  of  the  Sonnets, 
which  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  do,  or  else  he  had  been 
favoured  by  Shakespeare  with  Ms  copy  and  was  plagiaris- 
ing from  it,  a  thing  neither  likely  nor  proper. 

Spedding  also  mentions  in  the  very  next  pages  a  letter 
of  advice  from  Essex  to  Sir  Fulke  Greville.  This  too,  he 
says,  is  "  such  a  letter  ds  Bacon  would  undoubtedly  at 
this  time  have  wished  Essex  to  write  and  the  Queen  to 
know  he  had  written."  Moreover,  it  is  "  so  very  Baconian 
in  matter  and  manner  that  I  see  no  reason  why  every 
word  of  it  (the  opening  and  closing  paragraphs  excepted) 
might  not  have  been  written  by  Bacon  himself  in  his 
own  person."  These  and  other  feigned  letters  of  Bacon, 
purporting  to  be  between  Essex,  himself,  and  his  brother 
Anthony,  of  which  he  admitted  the  authorship  soon  after- 
wards, show  the  great  literary  versatility  of  the  man,  his 
secret  and  deceiving  ways,  and,  may  I  not  add,  give  further 
plausibility  to  his  having  xiDritten  the  dedications  of  the  Poems 
signed  William  Shakespeare,  as  well  as  the  Poems  them- 
selves and  the  Sonnets.  But  our  Shakespearian  Massey 
having  thus  unwittingly  brought  evidence  against  his 
own  theory,  proceeds  to  further  instances  : 

"There  is  a  copy  of  verses  in  England's  Helicon  (1600),  re- 
printed from  John  Dowland's  ^  First  Book  of  Songs ;  or,  Ayres 
of  four  parts,  with  a  Tableture  for  the  Lute.'  It  is  an  address  to 
'Cynthia': 

*  My  thoughts  are  winged  with  hopes,  my  hopes  with  love  : 

Mount  love  unto  the  Moon  in  clearest  night  ! 

And  say  as  she  doth  in  the  heavens  move, 

In  earth  so  wanes  and  waxeth  my  delight. 

And  whisper  this — but  softly — in  her  ears, 

How  oft  Doubt  hangs  the  head,  and  Trust  sheds  tears. 

And  you,  my  thoughts  that  seem  mistrust  to  carry, 

If  for  mistrust  my  Mistress  you  do  blame  ; 

Say,  tho'  you  alter,  yet,  you  do  not  vary. 

As  she  doth  change  and  yet  remain  the  same. 
Distrust  doth  enter  hearts  but  not  infect. 
And  love  is  sweetest  seasoned  with  suspect. 


CYNTHIA  175 

If  she  for  this  with  clouds  do  mask  her  eyes, 

And  make  the  heavens  dark  with  her  disdain  ; 

With  windy  sighs  disperse  them  in  the  skies, 

Or  with  thy  tears  derobe  them  into  rain. 

Thoughts,  hopes,  and  love,  return  to  me  no  more, 
Till  Cynthia  shine  as  she  hath  shone  before.' 

"These  verses  have  been  ascribed  to  Shakespeare  on  the 
authority  of  a  commonplace  book,  which  is  preserved  in  the 
Hamburgh  City  Library.  In  this  the  lines  are  subscribed  W.  S., 
and  the  copy  is  dated  1606.  The  little  poem  is  quite  worthy  of 
Shakespeare's  sonneteering  pen  and  period.  And  the  internal 
evidence  is  sufficient  to  stamp  it  as  Shakespeare's,  for  the  manner 
and  the  music,  with  their  respective  felicities,  are  altogether 
Shakespearian  of  the  earlier  time.  .  .  .  The  line 

*  And  love  is  sweetest  seasoned  with  suspect,' 
surely  comes  from  the  same  mint  as 

'  The  ornament  of  beauty  is  suspect.' 

—Sonnet  LXX. 
Also  the  line, 

*  And  make  the  heavens  dark  with  her  disdain,' 

is  essentially  Shakespearian ;  one  of  those  which  occur  at  times, 
— such  as  this  from  Sonnet  xviii. : 

*  But  thy  eternal  summer  shall  not  fade.' 

Then  the  '  windy  sighs '  and  the  tears  for  rain  are  just  as  recog- 
nisable as  a  bit  of  the  Greek  mythology.  Here  is  one  of  the 
poet's  pet  trinkets  of  fancy ;  with  him  sighs  and  tears,  '  poor 
fancy's  followers,'  are  sorrow's  wind  and  rain — 

*  Storming  her  world  with  sorrow's  wind  and  rain.^ 

— A  Lover's  Lament. 

*  The  winds  thy  sighs.* 

— Romeo  and  Juliet^  iii.  sc.  5. 

*  We  cannot  call  her  winds  and  waters^  sighs  and  tears} 

— Antony  and  Cleopatra, 

*  Where  are  my  tears  ?    Rain^  rain^  to  lay  this  wind.* 

—  Troilus  and  Cressida, 

*  Give  not  a  windy  night  a  rainy  morrow.' 

— Sonnet  XC. 

{i.e.  give  not  a  night  of  sighs  a  morning  of  tears.) 

*  The  sun  not  yet  thy  sighs  from  heaven  clears.' 

— Romeo  and  Juliet^  ii.  sc.  3. 


176   PROOF  FROM  LETTERS  AND  BOOKS 

In  these  last  the  mental  likeness  is  very  striking.  I  have  not 
the  least  doubt  of  the  poem  being  Shakespeare's  own,  and  my 
suggestion  is  that  it  was  written  for  the  Earl  of  Essex,  at  a  time 
when  the  Queen,  'Cynthia,'  was  not  shining  on  him  with  her 
favouring  smile,  and  that  Essex  had  it  set  to  music  by  Dowland 
to  be  sung  at  Court." 

Most  likely  Cynthia  does  refer  to  the  Queen ;  it  was 
a  very  frequent  and  popular  name  for  her.  I  do  not 
know  whether  anything  further  has  been  discovered  about 
the  authorship,  since  the  above  was  written  so  long  ago 
as  1866.  The  mere  initials  W.  S.  do  not  make  a  very 
strong  peg  to  hang  a  Shakespearian  theory  upon,  and 
perhaps  W.  S.  is  now  identified  thoroughly — if  so,  Shake- 
speare and  Bacon  are  both  alike  impossible — I  know 
nothing  beyond  the  above  statement  of  a  Shakespearian 
expert.  My  comment  again  is,  how  much  better  Bacon 
fits  in  with  all  the  circumstances.  For  we  know  that 
Bacon  did  compose  a  poem  just  when  Essex  was  in  danger 
of  losing  the  Queen's  favour,  and  that  the  object  was 
"  directly  tending  and  alluding  to  draw  on  her  Majesty's 
reconcilement  to  my  Lord  (of  Essex),"  which  Bacon 
himself  tells  us  he  "  showed  to  a  great  person  and  one  of 
my  Lord's  nearest  friends,"  doubtless  Southampton,  "  who 
commended  it."  It  was  meant  to  reach  the  Queen,  and 
no  doubt  in  some  roundabout  way  this  was  arranged,  for 
I  do  not  find  it  stated  absolutely  that  Bacon  showed  it 
to  the  Queen.  It  would  come  best  from  Essex.  Any- 
how, there  is  a  chance  that  we  have  here  something 
by  Bacon  which  experts  pronounce  to  be  genuine 
Shakespeare. 

But  the  best  proof  that  Francis  Bacon  was  a  poet, 
and  a  busy  one  too,  when  he  was  enjoying  the  friendship 
of  Essex  and  Southampton  in  the  days  of  his  early  man- 
hood, is  contained  in  a  letter  to  Essex  from  Bacon  at 
the  end  of  1594.  Bacon  admits  the  fact  himself  in  an 
undoubtedly  genuine  letter  preserved  to  us  by  his  literary 
executor  Rawley.*     I  hardly  see  what  better,  or  more 

*  Resuscitatio ;  Supplement,  p.  85. 


THE  WATERS   OF  PARNASSUS  177 

direct,  evidence  we  can  have.  I  therefore  reproduce  it 
here  literatim  : 

To  MY  Lord  of  Essex. 

My  singular  good  Lord, 

I  may  perceive  by  my  Lord  Keeper,  that  your  Lordship, 
as  the  time  served,  signified  unto  him  an  intention  to  confer  with 
his  Lordship  at  better  opportunity;  which  in  regard  of  your 
several  and  weighty  occasions  I  have  thought  good  to  put  your 
Lordship  in  remembrance  of;  that  now,  at  his  coming  to  the 
Court,  it  may  be  executed :  desiring  your  good  Lordship  never- 
theless not  to  conceive  out  of  this  my  diligence  in  soliciting  this 
matter  that  I  am  either  much  in  appetite  or  much  in  hope.  For 
as  for  appetite,  the  waters  of  Parnassus  are  not  like  the  waters  of 
the  Spaiv^  that  give  a  stomach  ;  but  rather  they  quench  appetite  and 
desires ^^^  &'c.  dr'c. 

There  is  not  much  of  the  "  concealed  Poet "  in  this 
expression.  He  admits  that  he  has  been  quenching  his 
thirst  from  the  waters  of  that  Castalian  fount  which  springs 
from  the  foot  of  Mount  Parnassus — or  in  plainer  English, 
he  admits  that  he  has  been  writing  poetry,  and  assumes 
pretty  clearly  that  Essex  knows  the  fact.  And  seeing, 
moreover,  that  only  a  short  time  before  Essex's  great 
friend  Southampton  had  received  a  dedication  copy  of 
Venus  and  Adonis  with  this  motto  prefixed : 

"  Vilia  miretur  vulgus  ;  mihi  flavus  Apollo 
Pocula  Castalia  plena  ministret  aqua," 

where  full  draughts  of  the  same  Castalian  waters  of 
Parnassus  are  the  author's  beverage — I  think  we  can 
shrewdly  guess,  and  so  no  doubt  could  Essex,  that 
both  letter  and  Virgilian  motto  were  in  the  fine  Roman 
hand  of  Francis  Bacon.  Both  Essex  and  Southampton 
must  have  known  the  Mystery  of  the  Sonnets  and 
Plays,  and  probably  several  other  contemporaries,  in- 
cluding Ben  Jonson,  also  knew;  but  it  was  a  subject 
on  which  reticence  was  the  best  policy  for  every  one 
concerned.  Nothing  but  peril  and  vexation  could  arise 
from   stirring  in  such  a  matter,   and  no   good   object 

M 


178       PROOF   FROM   BOOKS   AND   LETTERS 

could  be  gained  by  it.  Even  Ben  Jonson's  semi-con- 
cealed Aristophanic  banter  was  threatened  with  the  Star 
Chamber,  so  every  one  seemed  to  take  the  wise  policy 
of  a  still  tongue. 

There  are  other  letters  also  between  Bacon  and  Essex 
found  among  Bacon's  papers  and  published  by  Rawley, 
and  it  looks  very  much  as  if  Bacon  wrote  both  the 
letters  and  the  answers ;  but  we  need  not  dwell  on  this 
subject.     Bacon's  "slimness"  in  such  things  is  admitted. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  third  noble  friend,  Southampton, 
who  was  so  closely  allied  in  friendship  with  Bacon  from 
his  early  days  at  Gray's  Inn  until  the  Essex  treason  case. 
Then  the  two  friends  stood  on  opposite  sides — Bacon  a 
prosecutor,  Southampton  a  defendant  pleading  almost 
for  his  life.  This  was  a  terrible  time  for  Bacon,  and  he 
became  most  depressed  and  pessimistic ;  there  are  signs 
of  this  evident  enough  both  in  the  Sonnets  and  the  Plays. 
Bacon  became  very  unpopular  for  the  part  he  took  in 
the  matter ;  ill  reports  were  spread  against  him — mendacia 
famcB  he  calls  them — and  his  life  was  threatened,  as  he 
tells  the  Queen.  All  this  appears  to  be  hinted  at  pretty 
plainly  in  those  Sonnets  where  he  speaks  so  gloomily  of 
**  being  the  prey  of  worms,  my  body  being  dead,^'  and  ''the 
coward  conquest  of  a  wretch's  knife  "  (lxxiv.),  and  in  that 
deeply  pessimistic  Sonnet  a  little  earlier  (lxvi.).  Many 
of  the  Plays,  too,  are  attributed  to  a  "  Dark  Period,"  but 
of  course  the  Shakespearians  are  obliged  to  give  this 
"Dark  Period"  to  Shakespeare,  who  to  all  appearances 
never  had  one. 

The  result  of  the  treason  case  was  that  Essex  was 
beheaded,  and  Southampton  imprisoned  without  apparent 
hope  of  release.  But  when  the  Queen  died  her  successor, 
James  VL  of  Scotland,  who  had  friendly  feelings  towards 
the  party  to  which  Southampton  belonged,  released  him, 
and  reinstated  him  in  his  old  position  and  privileges. 
Bacon,  with  a  view  to  conciliate  his  former  friend,  wrote 
him  a  letter  (April  lo,  1603)  just  before  his  release  from 
prison,  and  referring  to  their  altered  position  to  each 
other  of  late,  said  :    "  This  great  change  hath  wrought 


BACON'S   RETICENCE  179 

in  me  no  other  change  towards  your  Lordship  than  this, 
that  I  may  safely  be  now  that  which  I  was  truly  before." 
However,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  former  very  close 
friendship  was  ever  reached  again.  The  Bacon-South- 
ampton correspondence  that  has  been  preserved  is  much 
smaller  than  would  have  been  expected.  Perhaps  Sonnets 
took  the  place  of  letters.  The  Shakespeare-Southampton 
correspondence  is  of  course  nil. 

"  Of  Bacon's  personal  relations  with  the  Earl  of 
Southampton  we  know  little  or  nothing.  The  intimate 
connection  of  both  with  the  Earl  of  Essex  must,  no  doubt, 
have  brought  them  together ;  but  no  letters  had  passed 
between  them  that  I  know  of,  nor  has  any  record  been 
preserved  of  any  other  communication."  *  But  it  seems 
that  Bacon  used  his  private  influence  after  the  trial  with 
the  Queen,  and  was  helped  by  Cecil,  and  the  Earl  was 
"  saved  "  as  far  as  his  life  went.  In  drawing  up  the 
"  Declaration  of  Treasons  "  Bacon  had  mentioned  South- 
ampton's name  as  slightly  as  it  was  possible  to  do,  evi- 
dently acting  on  the  proverb  "  The  least  said  the  soonest 
mended y  I  think  Bacon  often  acted  on  this  principle, 
and  that  herein  we  find  a  reasonable  and  sufficient 
explanation  of  several  incidents  in  his  life  hard  to 
understand  otherwise.  For  instance,  what  can  be  the 
reason  that  he  never  utters  a  single  syllable  about 
Shakespeare  or  Ben  Jonson — no  letters  seemed  to  have 
passed,  their  very  names  are  unrecorded  ?  I  suggest  the 
explanation  just  referred  to — there  were  literary  mysteries 
and  dead  secrets  connected  with  Bacon  and  known  to 
these  two,  and  so  a  strict  reticence  was  adhered  to. 
If  Bacon  had  in  any  way  referred  to  either  or  both  of 
these  famous  men,  his  remarks  would  have  been  most 
surely  weighed  and  considered,  and  that  was  just  what 
Bacon  did  not  want.  The  same  explanation  suits  the 
absence  of  all  correspondence  (save  the  one  letter  pre- 
served by  Bacon  and  quite  innocuous)  between  Bacon 
and  his  intimate  friend  Southampton,  to  whom,  as  our 
theory  goes,  he  addressed  those  intense  Sonnets.     They 

*  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  iii.  75. 


i8o   PROOF  FROM  BOOKS  AND  LETTERS 

were  probably  torn  up  and  burnt  so  that  no  suspicions 
might  arise — no  scandal  be  revealed. 

The  play  of  Richard  II.  and  its  connection  with  the 
foolish  attempt  of  Essex  and  his  party  would  be  one 
reason  why  Bacon  should  not  mention  Shakespeare  or 
bring  him  into  any  relation  with  himself.  In  fact,  the 
way  Shakespeare  is  ignored  throughout  all  the  official 
proceedings  connected  with  this  supposed  treasonable 
play  points  out,  in  my  opinion,  that  he  was  known  not 
to  be  the  author,  and  in  no  way  really  responsible  for 
the  play  which  so  greatly  offended  the  Queen.  What  if 
the  Queen  got  to  know  that  Bacon  was  the  real  author, 
and  that  he  had  to  turn  "  Queen's  evidence,"  so  to  speak, 
against  the  rebellious  noblemen  Essex  and  Southampton, 
who  were  his  dearest  friends !  Bacon's  whole  future 
depended  on  the  course  he  might  take.  He  was  either 
an  utterly  ruined  man,  or  else,  by  his  compHance  with 
the  Queen's  orders,  there  was  a  chance  of  still  maintaining 
his  position. 

The  Sonnets,  and  the  scandal  half  revealed  in  them, 
were  also  causes  which  would  tend  to  make  open  corre- 
spondence between  Bacon  and  Southampton  avoided  by 
both  as  much  as  possible.  It  has  often  been  a  subject 
of  great  surprise  that  Bacon  did  not  reveal  the  secret  of 
authorship  at  least  shortly  before  he  died.  No  obvious 
objection  has  been  adduced.  The  scandal  seems  a  possible 
reason,  Southampton  and  Pembroke  and  others  connected 
with  them  being  alive. 

Ben  Jonson  knew  the  "  secret "  at  an  early  date,  and 
the  evidence  for  that  is  given  in  the  present  volume.  But 
it  seems  pretty  clear  that  it  was  not  long  before  Bacon 
and  the  "  grand  possessors  "  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays 
induced  that  needy  though  vigorous  and  independent 
personality  to  come  over  to  their  side  and  help  them  to 
keep  the  secret. 

Let  us  next,  still  keeping  on  the  terra  firma  of  un- 
doubted and  extant  letters  and  books,  hear  what  Francis 
Bacon  says  in  them  about  his  own  literary  powers  and 
qualifications.     In  a  short  autobiographical  passage  in 


BACON'S   OWN   EVIDENCE  i8i 

the  preface  to  the  Interpretation  of  Nature,  written  about 
the  year  1603,  Bacon  says  : 

"  Whereas  I  believed  myself  bom  for  the  service  of  mankind, 
and  reckoned  the  care  of  the  common  weal  to  be  among  those 
duties  that  are  of  public  right,  open  to  all  alike,  even  as  the 
waters  and  the  air,  I  therefore  asked  myself  what  most  could 
advantage  mankind,  and  for  the  performance  of  what  tasks  I 
seemed  to  be  shaped  by  nature. 

"  But  when  I  searched,  I  found  no  work  so  meritorious  as  the 
discovery  and  development  of  the  arts  and  inventions  that  tend  to 
civilise  the  life  of  man  .  .  .  moreover,  I  found  in  my  own  nature 
a  special  adaptation  for  the  contemplation  of  truth.  For  I  had 
a  mind  at  once  versatile  enough  for  that  most  important  object — 
I  mean  the  recognition  of  similitudes — and  at  the  same  time 
sufficiently  steady  and  concentrated  for  the  observation  of  subtle 
shades  of  difference  ...  I  had  no  hankering  after  novelty,  no 
blind  admiration  for  antiquity,"  &c.  &c. 

These  extracts  seem  to  point  to  just  such  a  man  as 
we  should  expect  the  author  of  the  Shakespeare  works  to 
be — a  man  naturally  supplied  with  the  best  tools  for 
successfully  carrying  out  the  highest  efforts  of  poetic  and 
dramatic  "  invention."  If  Sir  Henry  Irving  should  retort 
that  such  mental  tools  are  no  use  for  the  Drama  unless 
one  has  practical  knowledge  and  frequent  practice  in 
stage  work  and  stage  machinery,  we  have  a  good  answer 
which,  strange  to  say,  was  quite  ignored,  and  I  understand 
denied y  by  Sir  Henry,  viz.,  the  fact  that  Francis  Bacon 
was  a  man  who  especially  had  these  practical  require- 
ments from  the  share  and  interest  he  took  in  masques 
and  interludes,  both  at  Gray's  Inn  and  among  his  aristo- 
cratic friends  and  at  court.  So  that  Bacon's  own  account 
of  his  special  capabilities  goes  some  way  to  prove  the 
Bacon  theory  not  altogether  unreasonable  or  impossible. 

And  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Burghley  in  Jan.  1592  he 
explains  what  a  wide  and  comprehensive  range  of  mental 
action  he  was  contemplating.  "  I  have  taken  all  know- 
ledge to  be  my  province."  Surely  then  Poetry  and  the 
Drama — the  glories  of  the  human  intellect  in  the  best 
days  of  Greece  and  Rome — would  not  be  excluded  ;   nor 


i82       PROOF  FROM   BOOKS   AND   LETTERS 

Sonnets,  the  present  glory  of  Italy  and  the  rising  fashion 
of  the  Elizabethan  poets.  This  very  letter,  as  it  proceeds, 
reminds  us  of  a  Sonnet  (No.  ii.)  which  would  be  composed 
about  the  same-  year  (1591-2),  and  was  addressed  pre- 
sumably to  a  young  man  of  about  twenty.  He  warns 
him  how  rapidly  a  man  ages,  and  tells  the  youth  that 
when  he  is  just  double  his  present  age  of  twenty,  all  his 
youth  and  beauty  will  be  practically  gone,  or  of  no  value. 
The  Sonnet  begins  : 

"  When  forty  winters  shall  besiege  thy  brow, 
And  dig  deep  trenches  in  thy  beauty's  field, 
Thy  youth's  proud  livery,  so  gaz'd  on  now, 
Will  be  a  tatter'd  weed  of  small  worth  held." 

But  this  is  an  unusual  view  to  take,  even  for  such 
irresponsible  beings  as  poets  are  ;  at  forty  many,  or  indeed 
most,  men  think  themselves  hardly  past  their  prime. 

But  what  says  Bacon  in  this  letter  to  his  uncle  of  the 
same  year  1591-2  ?  "I  wax  now  somewhat  ancient ; 
one-and-thirty  years  is  a  great  Deal  of  sand  in  the  hour- 
glass." Is  thirty-one  in  any  degree  ancient  ?  Surely 
not.  But  Bacon  thought  so.  Do  forty  winters  furrow 
the  manly  brow  in  such  deep  trenches  that  youth's  proud 
livery  is  all  departed  ?  Surely  not  so.  But  the  writer 
of  Sonnet  11.  thought  so.  The  inference  is  not  absolutely 
certain  of  course,  but  it  looks  pretty  obvious  that  the 
writer  of  the  letter  was  also  the  writer  of  the  Sonnet. 

Then  there  is  the  "  Sonnet  to  Florio,"  which  Florio 
himself  describes  as  written  by  "  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of 
mine  that  loved  better  to  be  a  Poet  than  to  be  counted 
so."  This  Sonnet  has  been  attributed  to  Shakespeare, 
on  internal  evidence,  by  two  good  critics.  Professors 
Minto  and  Baynes  ;  but  Bacon  is  much  more  likely  than 
Shakespeare,  for  we  know  of  no  bashful  reticence  or  con- 
cealment about  Shakespeare  and  his  poetry.  The 
Johannes  Factotum,  the  Shake-scene,  the  Poet-ape,  was 
not  likely  to  efface  himself,  or  even  to  wish  to  do  so, 
whereas  Bacon  says  he  was  a  "  concealed  poet."  We 
will  give  this  in  full,  for  the  book  in  which  it  occurs  is  so 
rare  that  no  one  except  Minto  seems  to  have  quoted  the 


THE   FLORIO   SONNET  183 

Sonnet,  or  to  have  said  more  than  that  it  was  very  fine, 
and  possibly  Shakespeare's.  It  occurs  just  after  the 
preface  of  Florio's  Second  Frutes,  London,  1591-4,  being 
the  sole  laudatory  poem  in  the  book,  and  by  the  date 
presumably  earlier  than  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece. 
Professor  Baynes  says  that  "  Mr.  Minto's  critical  analysis 
and  comparison  of  its  thought  and  diction  with  Shake- 
speare's early  work  tends  strongly  to  support  the  reality 
and  value  of  the  discovery."     It  is  entitled  : 

Phaethon  to  his  friend  Florio. 

Sweete  friend  whose  name  agrees  with  thy  increase, 
How  fit  a  rivall  art  thou  of  the  Spring  ? 
For  when  each  branche  hath  left  his  flourishing 
And  green-lockt  Sommers  shadie  pleasures  cease  : 

She  makes  the  Winter's  stormes  repose  in  peace, 
And  spends  her  franchise  on  each  living  thing  : 
The  dazies  sprout,  the  little  birds  doo  sing, 
Hearbes,  gummes,  and  plants  doo  vaunt  of  their  release, 

So  when  that  all  our  English  Witts  lay  dead, 
(Except  the  Laurell  that  is  evergreene) 
Thou  with  thy  Frutes  our  barrenness  o'respread, 
And  set  thy  flowrie  pleasance  to  be  seene. 

Sutch  frutes,  sutch  flowrets  of  moralitie. 
Were  nere  before  brought  out  of  Italic. 

—Phaethon. 

John  Florio  says  in  his  dedication  of  A  Worlde  of 
Wordes,  ist  edition,  1598,  that  he  had  lived  some  years 
in  the  "  paie  and  patronage  "  of  the  Earl  of  Southampton. 
Referring  to  the  Sonnet  in  the  last  book,  Second  Frutes ^ 
and  some  criticism  that  had  been  passed  upon  it,  he  says 
"  to  the  reader  "  : 

*'  There  is  another  sort  of  leering  curs,  that  rather  snarle  than 
bite,  whereof  I  could  instance  in  one,  who  lighting  upon  a  good 
sonnet  of  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of  mine,  that  loved  better  to  be  a 
Poet  than  to  be  counted  so,  called  the  auctor  a  rymer,  notwith- 
standing he  had  more  skill  in  good  Poetrie,  than  my  slie  gentle- 
man seemed  to  have  in  good  manners  or  humanitie.  His  name 
is  H.  S.  Doe  not  take  it  for  the  Roman  HS,  for  he  is  not  of  so 
much  worth,  unlesse  it  be  as  HS  is  twice  as  much  and  a  halfe 
as  halfe  an  As." 


i84   PROOF  FROM  BOOKS  AND  LETTERS 

The  British  Museum  has  a  copy  of  Florio  (edition 
1598)  which  once  belonged  to  Dr.  Farmer,  who  has  written 
on  the  fly-leaf :  "  Perhaps  Henry  Salesbury  is  meant  by 
H.  S.  in  the  preface.  He  published  Gram.  Britaft.,  1593, 
dedicated  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  Daniel's  patron."  And 
Florio  calls  H.  S.  a  grammarian-pedante  (in  the  preface). 

The  author  of  the  Sonnet  of  1591  might  be  Bacon  or 
Samuel  Daniel — both  seem  averse  at  that  time  to  publish- 
ing their  effusions — and  both  from  their  connection  with 
the  Pembroke  and  Southampton  families  would  have 
every  reason  to  know  Florio  well.  Daniel  seems  the  more 
likely,  as  he  sent  sonnets  for  Florio's  later  works.  But 
there  is  this  to  be  adduced  in  favour  of  Florio's  allusion 
being  to  Bacon,  that  he  uses  words  in  this  dedication 
of  1598  almost  recalling  the  dedication  of  Lucrece.  The 
words  in  Lucrece  are  :  "  What  I  have  done  is  yours,  what 
I  have  to  do  is  yours,  being  part  in  all  I  have  devoted 
yours."  And  Florio  says  :  "In  truth  I  acknowledge  an 
entire  debt,  not  only  of  my  best  knowledge  but  of  all,  yea 
of  more  than  I  know  or  can  to  your  bounteous  Lordship 
...  to  whom  I  owe  and  vow  the  years  I  have  to  live."  * 

A  strong  objection  which  occurred  to  me  was  that  the 
Sonnet  followed  the  Italian  model  as  Sidney  always  did, 
and  that  Shakespeare  never  did  follow  this  model.  But 
as  in  1591  no  poet  had  yet  deviated  from  the  Italian 
model,  the  objection  did  not  seem  insuperable.  So  it 
comes  to  this,  that  we  have  recently  found  a  very  fine 
Sonnet  written  by  Shakespeare  at  or  before  the  certain 
date  1591,  and  addressed  to  John  Florio  in  praise  of  a 
book  containing  dialogues  and  aphorisms  in  parallel 
columns  of  English  and  Italian  to  help  those  speaking 
the  one  language  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  other. 
But  at  this  early  date,  1591,  Shakespeare  was  hardly  free 
of  Burbage's  stable-yard,  or  at  most  had  not  got  much 

*  Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  read  carefully  Professor  Minto's 
Appendix  B.  in  his  Characteristics,  1885,  pp.  371-382,  and  I  withdraw  my 
suggestion  that  Daniel  may  have  written  the  Sonnet.  After  going  through 
Appendix  B.  there  seems  no  room  for  Daniel  or  any  one  else  except  the 
author  of  the  Shake-speare  Plays  and  Poems.  A  more  convincing  piece  of 
literary  proof  I  have  not  read  for  a  long  time. 


BACON    AND   FLORIO  185 

beyond  *'  Hamlet  revenge  "  in  the  Ghost  part  of  the  Ur- 
Hamlet.  What  had  William  Shakespeare,  late  of  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon,  to  do  with  Italian  dialogues  and  aphorisms  ? 
These  elegant  matters  were  of  interest  to  a  courtier  and 
aristocrat,  and  were  most  useful  to  lard  their  conversation 
and  epistles,  to  give  the  fashionable  unction  that  bespoke 
the  travelled  gentlemen — they  would  interest  Bacon,  and 
no  doubt  he  would  transfer  some  to  his  note-books. 
Aphorisms  especially  were  in  his  line,  and  Bacon  would 
enjoy  the  friendship  and  the  conversation  of  the  learned 
and  resolute  teacher,  John  Florio,  as  being  an  old  proUg^ 
and  dependant  of  the  Southampton  family  ;  but  I  doubt 
very  much  whether  Shakespeare  would  have  cared 
particularly  for  either  the  man  or  the  book.  And  we 
must  not  forget  that  Florio  told  us  plainly  in  1598,  that 
this  friend  of  his  who  wrote  the  Sonnet  was  a  gentleman 
"  that  loved  better  to  be  a  Poet  than  to  be  counted  one." 
This  suits  Bacon  exactly,  but  does  not  suit  Shakespeare 
at  all.  In  1591,  I  should  say,  there  was  not  much  of  the 
"  gentleman  "  about  Shakespeare. 

But  this  is  not  the  only  apparent  connection  in  verse 
between  Bacon  and  Florio.  There  are  some  lines  attached 
to  another  and  later  work  of  Florio — I  mean  his  trans- 
lation of  Montaigne's  Essays  in  its  second  edition  of  1613. 
This  has  been  attributed  to  Shakespeare  by  good  critics, 
but  if  my  contention  holds  good,  it  will  have  to  go  to 
Bacon  along  with  the  other  in  Florio's  Second  Frutes.  It 
is  in  the  same  Italian  form  of  the  Sonnet  as  is  the  earlier 
one  of  15 91,  probably  adopted  in  compliment  to  Florio. 
It  is  little  known,  and  may  therefore  well  be  quoted  here 
to  accompany  the  other.  It  was  unsigned,  and  indeed  so 
cramped  in  at  the  foot  of  the  page,  that  there  was  hardly 
room  for  any  subscription  by  the  author. 

It  was  entitled  : 

Concerning  the  Honor  of  Bookes. 

Since  Honor  from  the  Honorer  proceeds, 

How  well  do  they  deserve  that  memorie 

And  leave  in  bookes  for  all  posterities 

The  names  of  worthyes,  and  their  vertuous  deedes 


i86   PROOF  FROM  BOOKS  AND  LETTERS 

When  all  their  glorie  els,  like  water  weedes 

Without  their  element,  presently  dyes, 

And  all  their  greatnes  quite  forgotten  lyes  : 

And  when  and  how  they  florisht  no  man  heedes 

How  poore  remembrances  are  statutes  toomes 

And  other  monuments  that  men  erect 

To  Princes,  which  remaine  in  closed  roomes 

Where  but  a  few  behold  them  ;  in  respect 

Of  Bookes,  that  to  the  Universall  eye 

Shew  how  they  liv'd,  the  other  where  they  lye. 

The  punctuation  is  peculiar,  and  the  poem  has  appa- 
rently not  been  revised  for  the  press.  If  it  be  Bacon's, 
the  great  interest  he  evidently  took  in  Montaigne's  Essays 
may  be  the  cause  of  his  contributing  this  solitary  belated 
poem  in  1613,  his  last  attempt  before  the  Psalms  in  1624. 
Florio  excuses,  in  a  notice  to  the  reader,  the  errata, 
which  he  confesses  he  had  not  properly  attended  to  on 
account  of  his  engagement  at  court  which  absorbed  all  his 
time.  Again  I  enforce  the  argument  that  these  hangers- 
on  at  court,  and  these  foreigners  attached  to  the  house- 
holds of  noblemen,  were  much  more  likely  to  be  acquainted 
with  Bacon  than  with  Shakespeare. 

To  take  another  instance.  The  Earl  of  Essex  had  in 
his  service  an  Italian  fencing-master  named  Vincentio 
Saviolo,  who  wrote  a  book,  printed  in  London  by  John 
Wolfe  in  1595,  entitled,  Vincentio  Saviolo  his  Practice. 
In  two  Bookes.  The  first  intr eating  of  the  use  of  the  Rapier 
and  Dagger.  The  Second  of  Honor  and  honourable  Quarrels. 
It  was  dedicated  to  Robert,  Earle  of  Essex,  and  Ewe,  &c. 

Now  in  the  Shakespearian  play  oi  As  You  Like  It, 
written  some  time  before  1600,  the  scene  of  Orlando's 
encounter  with  Charles,  the  Duke's  wrestler,  and  the 
description  by  Touchstone  of  the  different  kinds  of  Lies, 
Retorts,  and  Replies  were  clearly  drawn  from  Saviolo's 
courtly  book.  But  who  was  the  most  likely  man  to 
possess  and  read  this  Italian's  expensive  and  well-illus- 
trated book  ?  Would  it  be  Bacon  or  Shakespeare  ? 
Bacon  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Essex,  quite  at  home 
with  foreigners,  be  they  Italians  like  Florio,  or  Spaniards 
like  Perez,   or   Frenchmen  like  La  Jessee.     He  was  a 


THE   INDIAN   PRINCE  187 

frequenter  of  courts  from  his  boyhood,  and  took  a  natural 
interest  in  the  etiquette  and  codes  of  honour  and  "  nice 
conduct "  of  an  "  honourable  Quarrel "  which  were  neces- 
sary parts  of  a  courtier's  education.  But  what  were  such 
things  to  WiUiam  Shakespeare  ?  It  was  much  more 
important  for  him  to  know  how  best  to  recover  a  debt, 
or  invest  his  savings. 

But  there  are  also  poems  never  attributed  to  Shake- 
speare which  we  can  justly  give  to  Francis  Bacon  in 
preference  to  any  one  else.  There  is  The  Device  of  the 
Indian  Prince,  referred  to  and  examined  at  length  at  the 
end  of  vol.  viii.  of  Spedding's  Bacon;  herein  we  find  a 
canzonet  describing  the  Queen  of  a  land  "  between  the 
Old  World  and  the  New."  This  poem  recalls  the  Shake- 
spearian Sonnets,  and  also  the  description  of  "  the  fair 
Vestal  throned  by  the  West,"  which  most  lovers  of  poetry 
know  well  enough  where  to  look  for.  But  as  The  Device 
of  the  Indian  Prince  is  not  on  many  book-shelves,  the 
poem  shall  be  judged  as  a  whole.     Here  it  is : 

"  Seated  between  the  Old  World  and  the  New, 
A  land  there  is  no  other  land  may  touch, 
Where  reigns  a  Queen  in  peace  and  honour  true  ; 
Stories  or  fables  do  describe  no  such. 
Never  did  Atlas  such  a  burden  bear, 
As  she,  in  holding  up  the  world  opprest ; 
Supplying  with  her  virtue  everywhere 
Weakness  of  friends,  errors  of  servants  best. 
No  nation  breeds  a  warmer  blood  for  war, 
And  yet  she  calms  them  by  her  Majesty  : 
No  age  hath  ever  wits  refined  so  far 
And  yet  she  calms  them  by  her  policy  : 
To  her  thy  son  must  make  his  sacrifice 
If  he  will  have  the  morning  of  his  eyes." 

The  son  referred  to  in  the  last  two  lines  was  the 
Indian  Prince,  who  was  bom  blind,  and  the  verses  (in 
sonnet  form)  are  the  words  of  the  oracle  declaring  how 
his  cure  was  to  be  effected.  This  same  blind  Indian 
Prince  is  supposed  by  some  Baconians  to  appear  in  the 
centre  of  those  remarkable  typographical  head-pieces 
which  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  first  page  of  many 


i88   PROOF  FROM  BOOKS  AND  LETTERS 

of  the  Shakespeare  books  in  their  original  form,  as  the 
Sonnets,  the  first  foHo,  and  others,  and  also  in  some 
anonymous  works,  now  known  to  be  by  Bacon,  such  as 
An  Apologia  of  the  Earle  of  Essex  (London,  1603-4). 

This  is  a  curious  subject  for  inquiry,  and  stands  on  a 
different  basis  from  Mrs.  Gallup  and  her  fellow-cipherers, 
but  in  this  present  volume  I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  it. 
The  speech  of  "  Seeing  Love,"  a  prince  of  greater  terri- 
tories than  all  the  Indies,  attired  with  feathers  and  armed 
with  bow  and  arrows,  is  well  worth  referring  to  in  Spedding's 
Bacon,  viii.  p.  389.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  covert  Baconian 
attempt  to  gain  the  Queen — but  it  is  accredited  to  Essex 
by  all  the  extant  evidence.  If  really  by  Essex,  I  agree 
with  Spedding  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  Essex 
from  Bacon  in  style. 

There  is  one  more  poem  absolutely  attributed  to 
Bacon  even  by  contemporary  authority,  I  mean  the 
"  Famaby  "  poem,  The  world's  a  bubble ,  which  is  a  para- 
phrase of  a  Greek  original,  and  has  been  already  referred 
to  when  discussing  the  scholarship  of  the  Shakespeare 
Works.  No  one  but  Bacon  has  been  claimed  as  the 
author  of  this,  and  no  one  has  ever  said  it  might  be 
Shakespeare's.  In  the  first  verse  we  have  this  excellent 
distich  : 

"  Who  then  to  frail  mortaHty  shall  trust 
But  limmes  the  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust." 

Keats's  well-known  epitaph  was  : 

"  Here  lies  one  whose  name  was  writ  in  water," 

and  I  suppose  most  of  us  would  refer  the  fine  thought  to 
Shakespeare  alone  : 

"  Noble  Madam, 
Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass  ;  their  virtues 
We  write  in  water." 

But  we  see  that  the  idea  appears  in  Bacon's  supposed 
contribution  as  above,  and  also  in  Bacon's  acknowledged 
writings  in  the  following  form  : 

"  High  treason  is  not  written  in  ice,  that  when  the  body  relenteth, 
the  impression  goeth  away." — Charge  of  Owen  (161 5). 


THE   FIVE   BACON-POEMS  189 

And  again  this  "  re-appears  "  {pace  Mr.  Massey)  in  Shake- 
speare as  : 

"  This  weak  impress  of  love  is  as  a  figure 
Trenched  in  ice^  which  with  an  hour's  heat 
Dissolves  to  water,  and  doth  lose  his  form." 

—  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona^  iii.  2. 

Such  varied  and  intricate  identities  of  thought  tend 
undoubtedly  to  show  that  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  at 
least  were  of  one  mind  as  to  this  poetical  fancy.  So  there 
are  five  Poems  quite  outside  the  ordinarily  accepted  Shake- 
speare Poems  and  Sonnets,  viz.,  the  "  Essex,"  the  "  two 
Florio's,"  the  "Indian  Prince,"  and  the  "  Famaby," 
which  have  every  appearance  of  being  the  "  concealed 
work  "  of  Bacon.  So  that  it  appears  neither  impossible 
nor  "  irrational "  that  the  Shakespeare  Sonnets  may  be 
his  concealed  work  also. 

Let  us  now  approach  these  perplexing  enigmas. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   SONNETS 

"  A  sonnet  is  a  moment's  monument, 
Memorial  from  the  soul's  eternity.  .  .  . 
A  sonnet  is  a  coin  :  its  face  reveals 
The  soul — its  converse  to  what  power  'tis  due." 

— D.  G.   ROSSETTI. 

At  the  very  beginning  there  naturally  rises  the  general 
question,  "  Do  you  take  the  autobiographical  view  or  the 
impersonal  one  ? " 

The  first,  decidedly,  is  my  answer.  Nearly  fifty  years 
ago  a  famous  Professor  of  English  Literature,  who  is  still 
(1902)  alive  and  of  most  active  intellect,  put  the  auto- 
biographical view  very  plainly,  and  if  anything  it  is 
clearer  now  than  it  was  then.     He  says  : 

"  Criticism  seems  now  to  have  pretty  conclusively  determined 
that  the  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  are,  and  can  possibly  be,  nothing 
else  than  a  poetical  record  of  his  own  feelings  and  experience — 
a  connected  series  of  entries,  as  it  were,  in  his  own  diary — during 
a  certain  period  of  his  London  life.  .  .  Whoever  does  not  to 
some  extent  hold  this  view,  knows  nothing  about  the  subject.  .  . 
These  Sonnets  are  autobiographic — distinctly,  intensely,  painfully 
autobiographic — although  in  a  style  and  after  a  fashion  of  auto- 
biography so  peculiar,  that  we  can  only  cite  Dante  in  his  Vita 
Nuova  and  Tennyson  in  his  In  Memoriam  as  having  furnished 
precisely  similar  examples  of  it."  * 

In  the  Shakespeare  Plays  we  never  can  be  quite  sure 
whether  the  author  is  alluding  to  himself  or  his  friends, 
or  not ;  but  in  the  Sonnets  we  feel  we  are  dealing  with 
the  author  in  person.     Hence  their  especial  value. 

The  other  view  is  the  Impersonal  view,  or,  as  it  has 

*  D.  Masson,  Shakespeare  and  Goethe  {Essays)^  1856-58,  pp.  22-24. 

190 


THE   WORK   OF   AN   ARISTOCRAT         191 

been  called,  the  German-subjective-transcendental-s}^!!- 
bolic  view.  This  view  excludes  autobiography  or  any- 
personal  allusion  whatever.  There  are  no  half -measures 
here.  One  critic  says  :  "  After  a  careful  reperusal  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  there  is  not  a  single  Sonnet  which  is 
addressed  to  any  individual  at  all.''''  This  same  gentleman 
holds  that  the  "  Two  Loves  "  of  Sonnet  cxliv.  are  "  the 
Celibate  Church  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Reformed 
Church  on  the  other,"  and  much  more  in  a  similar  strain. 
This  dogmatic  nonsense  so  enrages  a  rival  critic  of  the 
Personal  school,  and  so  amuses  him  at  the  same  time, 
that  he  says  of  such  stuff :  "  It  is  good  enough  surely,  if 
boundless  folly  can  reach  so  far,  to  tickle  Shakespeare  in 
eternity,  and  make  him  feel  a  carnal  gush  of  the  old  human 
joUity." 

The  latest  important  work  on  the  Sonnets  takes  a  wise 
middle  course,  and  is  not  blind  either  to  the  transcendental 
beauties  or  to  the  autobiographical  facts.  This  is  Mr. 
Wyndham's  edition  of  the  Poems  of  Shakespeare  (1898). 
In  his  general  introduction  he  most  lovingly  and  lucidly 
examines  the  beauties  of  the  various  Sonnet  sequences, 
and  has  laid  more  open  to  general  view  their  many  trans- 
cendental and  introspective  musings.  He  evidently  esti- 
mates some  of  the  Sonnets  as  the  richest  ore  that  has  ever 
been  drawn  forth  from  the  difficult  mines  of  metaphysical 
meditation,  and  it  seems  as  if  his  estimation  could  hardly 
be  put  aside  by  any  rival  sonnets,  ancient  or  modem.  My 
greatest  surprise  is  that  he  marries  these  wonderful  con- 
ceptions to  the  man  William  Shakespeare  of  Stratford-on- 
Avon  without  the  slightest  whisper  of  any  forbidding  of 
the  banns. 

The  Sonnets  seem  to  be  conceived  in  a  lofty  tone  and 
written  in  an  aristocratic  atmosphere,  and  the  same  holds 
with  the  Love  Poems. 

I  hold  firmly  that  all  the  earlier  Sonnets  have  to  do 
with  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  and  that  Mr.  Tyler's 
famous  exposition  of  the  Sonnets  one  by  one,  in  which 
he  advocated  the  Pembroke  theory  throughout,  though 
most  ingenious  and,  as  I  know,  convincing  to  many  able 


192  THE   SONNETS 

Shakespearians,  cannot  possibly  stand  against  the  adverse 
evidence.  He  has  depended  too  much  on  the  Mr.  W.  H. 
of  the  Dedication — a  very  unsafe  prop  or  foundation.  It 
is  highly  improbable  that  Thorpe,  when  he  wrote  the 
Dedication,  had  any  real  knowledge  of  the  true  author. 
If  he  had  known  that  the  author  had  written  them  to  or 
for  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  he  certainly  would 
not  have  put  down  in  the  very  front  of  his  venture, 
"  Mr.  W.  H." 

Initials,  too,  are  very  unsafe  foundations  whereon  to 
build — e.g.  Daniel's  Delia  was  in  its  first  edition  dedicated 
to  M.  P.  The  following  editions  were  dedicated  to  the 
Countess  of  Pembroke,  Mary  Pembroke.  How  natural  to 
insist  that  therefore  M.  P.  stood  for  Mary  Pembroke,  but 
it  seems  that  it  stood  for  a  friend  of  Daniel's  named 
Pine. 

Perhaps  this  is  the  proper  place  for  giving  more  fully 
my  own  view  of  the  famous  Dedication  of  the  Sonnets, 
and  Mr.  W.  H.,  "  the  onlie  begetter."  Some  years  ago 
I  was  reading  the  "  Isham  reprints,"  as  they  are  called,  a 
modern  reproduction  of  certain  unique  books  discovered 
by  Mr.  Charles  Edmonds  in  a  lumber  room  at  Lamport 
Hall  in  1867.  One  of  them,  a  work  by  Rob.  Southwell, 
S.J.,  contained  a  dedication  to  a  certain  Mathew  Saunders, 
Esq.,  couched  in  the  following  terms  :  "  W.  H.  wisheth 
with  long  life  a  prosperous  achievement  of  his  good  desires," 
and  speaking  of  the  MS.  from  which  the  work  was  printed 
W.  H.  says  :  "  Long  have  they  lien  hidden  in  obscuritie, 
and  happily  (haply  ?)  had  never  seen  the  light,  had  not  a 
meere  accident  conveyed  them  to  my  hands."  I  thought 
of  Mr.  W.  H.  of  the  Sonnets  at  once,  and  going  into  the 
matter  further  I  found  that  Southwell's  poem  was  pro- 
cured by  William  Hall  and  printed  for  William  Hall  by 
G.  Eld,  who  also  printed  Shakespeare's  Sonnets  and  other 
publications  for  Thorpe.  It  also  then  struck  me  that 
Hall's  name  was  written  in  full  in  front  of  Shakespeare's 
Sonnets,  although  I  had  never  noticed  it  before — 

"To  the  onlie  begetter  of  these  insuing  Sonnets, 
Mr.  W.  H.  all  HAPPINESSE  »  &c. 


THOMAS   THORPE  193 

The  next  thing  was  to  look  up  Thomas  Thorpe's  other 
dedications  and  examine  their  style.  I  found  he  was 
facetious  and  colloquial  when  addressing  friends  or  equals, 
but  most  obsequious  when  addressing  superiors  and  noble- 
men, such  as  Lord  Pembroke,  the  William  Herbert  (as  is 
supposed)  of  the  Sonnets. 

Thorpe  wrote  a  dedication  for  Marlowe's  Hero  and 
Leander,  1600  (ed.  Blount),  a  facetious  piece  of  bombast, 
in  which  he  makes  a  pun  on  Blount's  name  (blunt)  and 
calls  him  "  Ned."  He  also  wrote  dedications  to  Healey's 
Epictetus  in  the  editions  of  1610,  1616,  and  1636  (penes 
me),  one  to  John  Florio  (1610),  and  the  others  to  Lord 
Pembroke.  I  seemed  to  detect  in  all  a  somewhat  affected 
vein  of  writing,  and  my  interpretation  of  the  famous 
dedication  of  the  Sonnets  was  that  Thorpe  wrote  it  with 
punning  humour  to  Mr.  w.  h.all,  who  had  "  procured  " 
the  MS. ;  and  since  the  first  Sonnets  were  all  about 
"  begetting  "  a  child  to  make  the  father's  name  endure, 
so  he  in  his  humorous  vein  calls  Mr.  Hall  the  "  onlie 
begetter,"  and  wishes  him  "  happinesse,"  and  that  he 
too  would  become  a  father  and  thus  enjoy  "  that  eternitie 
promised  "  to  fathers  by  our  ever-living  poet.  And  when 
Thorpe  says  "  ever-living  poet,"  it  looks  like  a  sly  hit  at 
the  immense  importance  the  poet  gave  to  his  own  "  eternal 

lines  " : 

"  So  long  as  men  can  breathe  or  eyes  can  see. 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee." 

—Sonnet  XVIII. 

Here  was  an  "  ever-living  poet  "  indeed. 

Mr.  Hazlitt  in  his  last  work  on  Shakespear  gives 
great  credit  to  Thorpe  for  bestowing  such  an  appropriate 
epithet  as  "  ever-living "  on  Shakespeare,  and  in  thus 
anticipating  the  verdict  of  later  men  ;  but  it  does  not 
seem  that  Thorpe  was  delivering  an  early  verdict  on  the 
immortality  of  Shakespeare  either  as  a  dramatist  or  as  a 
poet.  I  admit  that  Thorpe  as  a  keen  man  of  business 
was  quite  aware  of  the  literary  value  of  the  Shake-speare 
MSS.  if  they  could  be  obtained,  and  I  have  thought  for  a 
long  time  that  in  that  singular  preface  to  the  Troilus  and 

N 


194  THE   SONNETS 

Cressida  of  1609  we  have  possibly  the  bombastic  and 
affected  handiwork  of  T.  T.,  and  Mr.  Hazhtt,  I  see, 
"  affirms  "  it ;  by  which  he  means,  I  hope,  that  he  will 
not  swear  that  T.  T.  is  the  author.  Therein  Thorpe  (if 
it  be  he)  undoubtedly  predicts  the  future  value  of  the 
Plays  in  the  hands  of  the  "  grand  possessors,"  but  Thorpe 
was  more  likely  to  mean  a  commercial  value  than  a 
literary  one,  and  his  remarks  there  do  not  seem  to  in- 
validate my  suggestion  as  to  the  interpretation  of  the 
**  onlie  begetter."  Indeed,  Mr.  W.  H.  appears  to  have 
been  a  "  lion's  provider  "  or  literary  jackal  to  Thorpe, 
who  would  be  just  as  likely  as  not  to  call  him  in  one  of 
his  facetious  moods,  "  my  Jack  'all."  But  enough  about 
this  enigmatical  W.  H. — he  has  been  long  enough  a  bone 
of  contention  between  the  Herbertites  and  Southamp- 
tonites.  He  has  to  descend  somewhat  in  the  social  scale, 
as  it  seems  ;  but  I  believe  he  knew  Marlowe,  Blount, 
Florio,  and  Chapman,  and  had  good  chances  for  MS.  finds. 

Whether  William  Hall  was  a  bachelor,  or  a  childless 
widower,  or  a  man  with  a  large  family  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing.  I  only  tentatively  suggest  that  Thorpe 
wishes  him  "  happinesse  "  as  the  "  onlie  "  man  fortu- 
nate enough  to  be  the  "  begetter  "  of  such  a  precious 
literary  bantling  as  the  MvS.  of  the  Sonnets,  a  child 
promising  an  "  eternitie  "  of  fame,  according  to  the  rosy 
view  of  "  our  ever-living  poet,"  as  he  con§dently  calls 
himself. 

I  do  not  gather  that  either  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
or  Thorpe  thought  definitely  that  the  Sonnets  would  be 
immortal ;  it  was  rather  the  Poems  that  were  to  be  thus 
highly  favoured.  As  for  the  Sonnets,  they  were  anonymous 
adjuncts  not  intended  for  the  public  eye  ;  they  were 
ambassadors  coming  privately  to  announce  or  accom- 
pany a  Mighty  Power  able  to  immortalise  the  beloved 
one — a  Power  of  Verse  and  a  Monument  of  Glory  that, 
like  the  Pyramids,  should  stand  on  such  firm  and  broad 
bases  (Sonnet  cxxv.)  as  to  be  indestructible  by  the  fiercest 
assaults  of  Time  or  Fortune.  The  Poems  were  pubHshed 
in  1593  and  1594,  and  appear  to  have  had  the  author's 


THE   ENIGMAS  195 

revision ;  the  ambassadors  accompanying  them  were 
withheld  from  vulgar  gaze,  and  although  two  of  the  suite 
were  captured  by  unfair  means  and  exhibited  in  1599, 
the  others  kept  the  strictest  incognito  for  another  ten 
years,  and  then  Thomas  Thorpe  and  some  others  of  his 
tribe  (perhaps  Edward  Blount  was  one)  brought  them 
out  from  their  hiding-place  without  so  much  as  saying 
*'  by  your  leave,"  as  far  as  we  know.  It  is  these  ambas- 
sadors, and  their  mission  and  message,  that  must  now 
take  our  attention. 

In  dealing  with  the  Sonnets,  I  shall  try  to  read  Bacon 
into  them  wherever  he  seems  to  have  a  proper  claim  to 
be  there,  and  shall  give  some  general  views  as  to  dates 
and  sequences.  But  I  shall  not  attempt  to  take  them 
one  by  one  and  explain  them  in  accordance  with  my 
preconceived  theory  :  they  are  far  too  obscure  and  diffi- 
cult for  such  a  treatment  to  be  anything  but  a  failure. 
Mr.  Tyler  tried  this  plan  with  a  skill  and  perseverance 
that  few  could  equal,  but  the  result  gained  was  not  worth 
the  labour.  There  are  certain  enigmas  in  the  Sonnets, 
especially  the  Rival  Poet  or  Poets,  and  the  "  Dark  Lady," 
or  the  "  woman  coloured  ill,"  which  I  think  no  one  can 
pronounce  to  be  solved,  or  ever  solvable  with  our  present 
imperfect  knowledge  and  data. 

Here  I  simply  give  my  preference,  but  by  no  means 
my  conviction.  I  sometimes  think  the  "  Dark  Lady  " 
may  have  existed  for  Francis  Bacon  when  Mary  Fit  ton 
was  a  mere  unformed  girl  at  school.  Gregor  Sarrazin,  a 
very  capable  German  critic,  places  the  "  Dark  Lady  " 
episode  chronologically  as  beginning  about  1592,  and  he 
sees  clear  signs  of  the  episode  in  the  plays  of  Love's  Labour^ s 
Lost,  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  and  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  all  very  early  plays.  Thus  he  holds  that  Mary 
Fitton,  the  maid  of  honour,  born  24th  June  1578,  and 
therefore  in  1592  a  girl  of  only  fourteen,  could  not  be  the 
lady  of  the  Sonnets  or  early  Plays,  could  not  have  been 
the  original  of  Rosaline  or  of  the  other  graceful  and 
quick-witted  damsels  who  so  often  appeared  in  doublet 
and  hose.     Certainly  there  may  have  been  an  earlier 


196  THE   SONNETS 

flame  who  was  the  original  of  the  many  early  allusions 
and  reminscences  in  the  plays  mentioned  above,  which 
are  supposed  now  to  date  much  about  the  years  1591- 
1593.  This  would  make  the  author  a  younger  man  than 
was  previously  supposed,  and  would  carry  us  back  almost 
to  the  time  when  Shakespeare  had  not  been  very  long 
in  London,  and  had  not  yet  become  acquainted  with 
Southampton.  Thus  the  Shakespearian  authorship  would 
be  rendered  more  unlikely  than  ever,  for  how  could  Shake- 
speare at  that  time  have  had  any  intrigue  or  even  acquaint- 
ance with  a  lady  of  the  type  of  the  early  Plays  and  Sonnets? 
For  these  types  of  delicate  and  aristocratic  womanhood 
cannot  possibly  have  had  plebeian  models.  He  might 
have  known  a  Doll  Tearsheet  or  a  merry  wife  of  a 
London  citizen,  but  a  Rosaline,  a  Beatrice,  or  a  Juliet — 
never ! 

But  Bacon  had  the  entree  into  the  best  society — into 
Court  society — among  his  cousins  who  were  maids  of 
honour,  from  his  boyhood  upwards.  Was  not  he  the 
Queen's  "  my  young  Lord  Keeper  "  ? 

However,  there  is  this  to  be  considered  as  against 
Sarrazin's  shrewd  objection  to  Mistress  Fitton.  These 
early  plays  were  being  continually  altered  {more  Baconico), 
and  the  "  Dark  Lady  "  types  may  have  been  later  addi- 
tions to  the  plays,  suggested  by  Mistress  Fitton's  remark- 
able personality.  The  originals,  unrevised,  and  produced 
before  Mistress  Fitton  came  to  Court  in  1595,  may  have 
been  quite  devoid  of  such  allusions.  But  when,  as  was 
the  case  with  Lovers  Labour^ s  Lost,  the  play  was  revised 
for  performance  in  1597  before  the  Court,  then  the  episode 
would  be  appropriately  newly  introduced,  and  Bacon 
and  his  friends,  who  were  acquainted  with  what  had 
been  going  on,  would  enjoy  the  allusions  immensely, 
and  all  the  more  for  the  lady  herself  being  present  in 
the  court  circle.  This  play  was  the  first  of  the  Shake- 
speare Plays  that  was  not  anonymous.  It  was  given 
to  William  Shakespeare.  It  was  beginning  to  be  neces- 
sary to  name  some  author,  so  as  to  prevent  curious 
inquiry. 


THE   MYSTERY   OF   W.    H.  197 

x\s  to  the  Dark  Lady,  Mrs.  Charlotte  Carmichael 
Stopes  says  : 

"  It  is  much  more  likely  she  was  the  educated  wife  of  some 
wealthy  city  burgess,  an  acquaintance  of  Shakespeare's,  to  whose 
home,  business,  or  friendship  took  him,  and  in  whose  parlour 
Shakespeare  envied  the  virginal  jacks  for  kissing  'the  tender 
inwards  of  her  hands.'  Such  a  one,  for  instance,  as  Jacquinetta 
Vautrollier,  the  wife  of  Richard  Field  the  printer,  a  French- 
woman, therefore  probably  dark  and  fascinating,  who  dwelt  in 
Blackfriars  near  the  theatre.  To  such  a  home  it  would  be  quite 
natural  that  Shakespeare  might  take  his  friend,  and  that  the 
friend  should  charm  the  hostess,  and  displace  the  poet  in  her 
attentions.  Field  was  a  Stratford  man  and  a  friend  of  the  poet. 
He  printed  Shakespeare's  first  poem,  but  transferred  it  soon, 
never  printed  another,  and  signed  the  1596  petition  against  the 
existence  of  the  Blackfriars  Theatre."  * 

Mrs.  Stopes  has  also,  as  she  thinks,  discovered  Mr. 
W.  H.  He  was  really  the  Sir  William  Harvey  who 
married  Southampton's  mother  in  May  1598.  She  died 
in  1607,  and  left  the  best  part  of  her  stuff  to  her  son,  but 
the  greater  part  to  her  husband.  Sir  William  Harvey. 
Mrs.  Stopes  thinks  a  copy  of  the  Sonnets  was  included 
in  her  household  stuff,  and  that  Sir  W.  H.  read  them  and 
thought  them  worthy  of  being  printed,  and  took  them  to 
Thorpe,  who,  seeing  a  W.  H.  on  them,  thought  they  had 
been  addressed  to  Sir  William  Harvey  himself.  As  to 
the  W.  H.  on  them,  it  stood  most  likely  for  William  and 
Henry,  and  was  inscribed  in  a  true  lover's  knot.  To  lead 
Thorpe  into  error,  and  critics  into  confusion  worse  con- 
founded, it  was  only  necessary  that  some  one  of  the  initials 
W.  H.  should  have  become  owner  of  the  MS.  And  this 
happened  in  the  case  of  Sir  William  Harvey. 

I  am  afraid  I  cannot  follow  Mrs.  Stopes  in  her  high 
imaginative  flights,  and  the  William  and  Henry  initials 
in  a  true  lover's  knot  savour  more  of  the  transpontine 
drama  and  melodramatic  sentiment  of  the  Victorian  age 
than  the  Elizabethan. 

*  Athemcum,  March  26,  1898. 


198  THE   SONNETS 

I  think,  however,  after  all,  that  we  may  safely  say 
that  we  are  considerably  nearer  to  the  personality  of  the 
so-called  "  Dark  Lady  "  than  we  were  twenty  years  ago 
or  more,  when  that  excellent  critic  Professor  Dowden 
said,  "  We  shall  never  discover  the  name  of  that  woman 
who  for  a  season  could  sound,  as  no  one  else,  the  instru- 
ment in  Shakespeare's  heart,  from  the  lowest  note  to  the 
top  of  the  compass.  To  the  eyes  of  no  diver  among  the 
wrecks  of  time  will  that  curious  talisman  gleam." 

Some  believe  confidently  that  we  have  recently  found 
out  the  name  of  the  lady  who  is  the  "  Fit  one  "  for  all 
the  circumstances.  I  cannot  go  quite  so  far  as  that.  But 
I  do  think  we  are  on  the  right  track  with  regard  to  the 
lady  who  was  so  much  in  our  poet's  thoughts  between 
1597  and  1601,  or  perhaps  even  a  little  earlier.  Mary 
Fitton  came  to  Court  as  we  know  in  1595,  being  then 
"  sweet  seventeen,"  and  there  would  be  plenty  of  time 
for  Francis  Bacon — a  former  gallant  of  the  Inns  of  Court, 
a  relative  of  some  of  the  maids  of  honour,  and  one  pos- 
sessing by  birth  and  his  circle  of  noble  friends  an  entree 
to  the  highest  society — to  form  an  acquaintance  with  a 
lively,  musical,  masque-loving,  forward  girl  as  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe  Mary  Fitton  was.  She  would 
doubtless  be  present,  and  Bacon  too,  when  Lovers  Labour^ s 
Lost  was  performed  before  the  Queen  at  the  usual  Christmas 
court  festivities  in  1597.  If  these  two  were  among  the 
audience,  they  were  also,  on  that  occasion,  on  the  stage 
as  well,  thinly  disguised,  to  those  who  knew,  as  Biron  and 
Rosaline. 

The  play  had  been  revised  and  enlarged  especially  for 
this  great  court  function,  and  some  of  Biron-Bacon's  finest 
love-speeches  and  descriptions  had  been  added  for  the 
occasion.  These  additions  in  the  author's  later  and  im- 
proved manner  have  been  acknowledged  by  critics,  who 
have  also  said  that  in  Biron  were  to  be  caught  the  true 
accents  of  the  author  himself — Shakespeare  as  they  all 
thought.  But  no  further  explanation  could  they  give, 
and  one  of  the  best  of  them  could  only  say,  referring  to 
the  splendid  speech  on  Love  by  Biron  in  the  fourth  act, 


LOVE'S   LABOUR^S   LOST  199 

*'  We  must  take  Biron-Shakespeare  at  his  word,  and 
believe  that  in  these  vivid  and  tender  emotions  he  found, 
during  his  early  years  in  London,  the  stimulus  which 
taught  him  to  open  his  lips  in  song."  * 

This  critic  and  most  of  the  other  authorities  take  the 
original  Love's  Labou/s  Lost  to  be  one  of  the  very  earliest 
of  the  Plays,  and  date  it  1589  from  certain  internal  evi- 
dence of  a  very  strong  character.  I  think  this  may  be 
taken  as  almost  an  ascertained  fact,  and  is  of  itself  as 
good  a  Baconian  argument  as  any  I  know  of.  For  that 
Shakespeare  should  begin  with  such  a  play  and  such  a 
subject,  dealing,  I  mean,  as  it  does  with  aristocratic  court 
life  in  France,  and  in  that  part  of  the  kingdom  where 
Bacon  had  been,  seems  out  of  all  probability.  The  first 
Lovers  Labour^ s  Lost  of  1589  could  have  nothing  to  do  with 
Mary  Fitton,  who  would  then  be  an  unformed  girl  of 
about  eleven.  She,  clearly,  could  come  into  the  play 
only  when,  after  some  years,  it  was  revised,  augmented, 
and  played  before  the  Queen  and  the  court  ladies  in 
1597-8  at  the  Christmas  festivities. 

But  there  might  have  been  a  different  and  original 
"  Dark  Lady  "  in  the  1589  play  and  in  the  other  early 
plays  written  before  1595,  when  first  we  hear  of  Mary 
Fitton  at  Court.  Some  of  the  German  critics  have  thought 
that  there  was  such  a  lady,  and  that  Shakespeare's  Aspasia 
was  not  an  Englishwoman  but  an  Italian,  who  was  not 
beautiful,  but  well-educated  and  very  musical,  and  that 
she  left  a  deep  impression  on  the  poet,  which  he  revived 
in  his  Cleopatra  and  Cressida.  One  German,  Gregor 
Sarrazin,  holds  it  not  impossible  (nicht  fur  unmoglich) 
that  Shakespeare  met  her  in  Venice  when  on  his  travels, 
and  that  the  whole  story  was  enacted  in  Italy  and  not 
in  London.  At  first  sight  this  must  seem  utterly  absurd 
to  the  ordinary  Shakespeare  reader ;  but  it  is  not  so 
absurd  to  such  Shakespeare  students  as  are  acquainted 
with  the  marvellous  general  and  local  knowledge  of  Italy 
displayed  in  the  Plays.  The  author  must  have  been  on 
the  spot,  we  are  inclined  to  say,  again  and  again  when 

*  G.  Brandes,  William  Shakespeare^  i.  56. 


200  THE   SONNETS 

he  criticises  so  excellently  the  artistic  work  of  Giulio 
Romano,  and  seems  almost  to  have  read  his  epitaph — 
when  he  speaks  of  the  "  traject,"  the  common  ferry  which 
trades  to  Venice  (Italian  tragitto,  Venetian  traghetto),  which 
appeared  in  all  the  Quartos  and  Folios  as  "  tranect  "  and 
nonplussed  the  commentators  for  a  long  time.  At  length 
it  was  found  out  what  the  author  meant  and  how  correct 
he  was,  and  what  a  local  colour  he  could  give.  Surely 
the  author  must  have  visited  these  scenes  in  person, 
otherwise  how  could  he  have  been  so  accurate  ?  Thus 
many  Shakespearians  say  that  their  great  Idol  did  visit 
Italy,  and  they  give  him  from  the  autumn  of  1592  to  the 
summer  of  1593  for  the  tour.  He  was  then  free,  they 
say,  for  all  the  theatres  were  closed  on  account  of  the 
plague. 

It  is  not  at  all  likely  that  Shakespeare  would  visit 
Italy  alone,  although  poor  students  and  others  often  made 
their  way  there  on  foot.  If  Shakespeare  went  at  all  he 
would  go  with  his  fellow-actors,  so  as  to  make  a  little 
money  to  pay  expenses.  That  is  possible,  for  to  the 
Englishmen  of  that  day  Italy  was  the  goal  of  their  longing 
as  travellers.  It  was  a  land  where  was  the  joy  of  life. 
Venice  attracted  the  average  man  more  even  than  Paris. 
Shakespeare  may  have  gone  to  Venice  and  met  a  dark 
lady  there  ;  but  we  have  not  a  scrap  of  direct  evidence 
about  it.  If  Shakespeare  did  not  go  during  the  plague 
year,  he  could  hardly  have  gone  at  any  other  time. 

Now  with  Bacon  all  is  very  different,  and  his  oppor- 
tunities much  greater  for  visiting  and  knowing  about  Italy. 
Between  1579  and  1584  Bacon  might  have  gone  to  Italy 
again  and  again  for  anything  we  know  to  the  contrary. 
In  that  period  we  hardly  know  anything  about  his  doings. 
He  was  presumably  studying  law  at  Gray's  Inn,  but 
lawyers  have  holidays  and  go  abroad  as  well  as  other 
people.  George  Brandes  says  Bacon  is  "  known  to  have 
visited  Italy."  *  I  cannot  corroborate  this,  but  I  think 
it  is  likely  to  be  correct.  But  even  supposing  Bacon  never 
found  time  to  visit  Italy,  there  was  his  brother  Anthony, 

*  Brandes,  William  Shahcspeare,  i.  135. 


THE   INFLUENCE   OF  SIDNEY  201 

and  many  intimate  friends,  who  knew  Italy  as  well  almost 
as  they  knew  their  own  country.  From  these  Bacon  could 
get  any  knowledge  of  local  matters  that  he  might  require. 
But  the  subject  need  not  be  pursued  further  ;  enough  has 
been  said,  I  hope,  to  show  that  Bacon  was  a  much  more 
likely  personage  for  "  Dark  Ladies,"  whether  maids  of 
honour  or  "  Italian  black-eyed  devils,"  than  was  that 
"  young  man  from  the  country  "  who  left  his  twins  behind 
him.  Bacon  was  much  more  likely  to  know  about  Italy 
and  its  beautiful  language  than  was  the  Warwickshire  lad 
who  was  mainly  master  of  his  own  patois  only. 

The  first  thirteen  Sonnets,  or  indeed  the  first  seventeen, 
form  the  most  certain  and  easy  sequence  of  the  whole 
collection.  They  were  written,  as  everything  seems  to 
show,  about  the  year  1591  and  1592,  and  the  author  had 
been  evidently  reading  the  Arcadia  of  Sidney,  which  was 
published  in  1590,  and  had  extracted  much  of  the  matter 
of  the  first  thirteen  Sonnets  from  that  work.  It  looks  as 
if  the  author  had  been  asked  to  try  his  "  pupil  pen  "  in 
turning  Sidney's  prose  into  sonnets,  so  many  and  close  are 
the  parallels.*  Sir  Walter  Scott  thought  that  Sidney 
must  have  read  the  Sonnets,  but  from  what  we  know  of 
Bacon  the  reverse  is  much  more  likely.  Bacon  read  the 
Arcadia,  just  as  in  after  years  he  read  Holinshed,  and  then 
turned  it  into  magnificent  poetry.  Bacon's  great  natural 
gift,  early  and  late,  was  that  of  adorning  and  glorifying  as 
if  by  a  magical  alchemy  the  prose  of  other  people.  What- 
ever expressions  other  people  might  use,  in  whatever  way 
they  might  present  a  tale  or  history.  Bacon  was  able 
either  to  exalt  or  embellish. 

Besides,  who  more  likely  to  read,  and  be  interested  in, 
the  Arcadia  than  Bacon  ?  We  should  not  expect  the 
burgesses  of  Stratford,  or  their  family  either,  to  rave  about 
the  beauties  of  that  elegant  composition.  The  question 
of  fines  for  not  removing  the  dirt  from  their  doorways  was 
a  much  more  burning  question  with  some  of  them.  But 
Bacon  was  a  courtier  and  an  elegant  gentleman,  to  whom 

*  Cf.  Massey's  Secret  Dravia  of  Shakespeare^  s  Sonnets,  priv.  edit.  1888,  pp. 
73.  &c. 


202  THE   SONNETS 

such  a  work  would  appeal.  After  he  had  written  the 
first  thirteen  Sonnets,  it  is  probable  that  Sidney's 
next  work,  the  sonnets  in  Astrophel  and  Stella,  fell  into 
Bacon's  hand  in  1591  or  thereabouts  (published  in  1591), 
for  after  Sonnet  xiii.,  hut  not  before,  we  find  clear  traces  of 
likeness  to  and  borrowing  from  this  later  work  of  Sidney. 

As  to  the  subject  of  these  first  seventeen  Sonnets, 
called  "Procreation  Sonnets,"  we  have  the  best  of  evidence. 
For  there  was  a  scheme  in  hand  as  early  as  1590  to  induce 
the  young  Earl  of  Southampton  to  marry.  He  was 
Burghley's  ward,  and  it  was  the  interest  of  that  astute 
politician  to  capture  the  young  nobleman  and  his  political 
influence  for  his  own  family  faction.  He  therefore  desired 
a  marriage  between  the  rising  youth  and  his  own  grand- 
daughter. Bacon  belonged  to  Burghley's  faction,  and  it 
would  further  his  worldly  prospects  very  much  if  he  could 
show  that  he  had  done  his  share  in  bringing  the  young 
Earl  up  to  the  marriage  mark.  So  he  opened  fire  on  his 
young  acquaintance,  who  had  not  long  joined  his  own 
Society  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  delivered  thirteen  similar  shots 
in  succession  and  eventually  reached  seventeen.  But 
though  skilfully  aimed  they  failed  to  effect  their  purpose. 

By  a  singular  coincidence  there  was,  nearly  eight 
years  afterwards  (1598),  another  rising  young  nobleman 
whom  his  friends  were  persuading  to  marry  at  a  similarly 
early  age,  and  what  is  still  more  strange,  to  another  grand- 
daughter of  the  same  Lord  Burghley.  This  was  William 
Herbert,  at  that  time  known  as  "  young  Lord  Harbert," 
his  father  being  alive.  This  was  the  youth,  say  the 
Herbertites,  to  whom  the  Procreation  Sonnets  were  ad- 
dressed in  1598.  This  was  the  Mr.  W.  H.  of  the  dedica- 
tion— and  no  other  youth  will  suit.  "  Why,"  say  they  in 
derision,  "  in  1598  the  Earl  of  Southampton  was  a  man  of 
twenty-five  with  a  full  beard  :  how  could  Shakespeare 
possibly  call  him  his  '  cherub  '  and  his  '  darling  boy  '  ?  " 
But  these  Herbertites  have  gone  wrong  in  their  dates,  and 
1598  is  an  impossible  date  for  many  of  the  Sonnets. 
There  are  such  clear  parallels  and  allusions  to  Venus 
and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  and  to  the  sending  of  this  poem  to 


THE   "PROCREATION"   SONNETS  203 

Southampton  in  1593-4,  and  to  the  early  plays,  in  many 
of  these  Sonnets,  and  in  the  Procreation  Sonnets  too,  that 
such  ones  cannot  have  been  written  later  than  1594  as  an 
extreme  limit.  But  they  say  Herbert  first  came  into 
residence  in  town  in  1598,  and  that  there  was  the  early 
marriage  episode  with  Burghley's  grand-daughter,  and 
then  was  Shakespeare's  first  acquaintance  with  him. 
Chronology  upsets  this  altogether.  I  helped  the  Herbert- 
ites  by  three  years,  without  intending  it,  when  I  dis- 
covered the  new  fact  that  young  Herbert  was  three  months 
or  more  in  London  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1595,  and 
that  his  relations  were  even  then  trying  to  marry  him 
{really  a  cherub  and  darling  boy  of  about  fifteen)  into  the 
Carew  family.  But  these  three  years,  and  these  strangely 
similar  circumstances,  are  not  much  good  to  the  Herbert- 
ites.  They  want  eight  years  at  least,  and  the  dates  must 
be  carried  back  before  Lucrece,  and  even  1595  is  no  use 
in  such  circumstances. 

However,  the  Shakespearians  must  fight  their  own 
battles,  and  meet  their  own  difficulties. 

I  suggest,  to  return  to  my  present  object,  that  there 
is  not  much  "  difficulty  "  in  our  believing  that  Francis 
Bacon,  of  Gray's  Inn,  wrote  the  Procreation  Sonnets  i.- 
XVII.  to  his  young  acquaintance  the  Earl  of  Southampton 
about  the  years  1591-2,  after  a  close  study  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney's  recently  published  and  fashionable  works. 

I  also  have  a  strong  impression  that  it  was  Daniel's 
Delia  which  supplied  Bacon  with  a  model  for  the  form  of 
verse,  which  is  English  and  not  the  ordinary  Italian  form. 
This  was  a  new  departure,  dating  about  1592,  or  earlier  if 
Daniel's  sonnets  had  been  seen  by  Bacon  in  MS.  But 
the  date  would  not  be  before  1591,  for  the  Sonnet  to 
Florio  is  of  that  year,  and  is  in  the  ordinary  Italian  style 
then  in  vogue. 

Sonnets  xviii.-xxvi.  form  another  pretty  plain 
sequence.  Some  were  sent  to  Southampton  with  Lucrece 
or  perhaps  a  little  earlier,  so  the  date  would  be  about  1594. 
Some  might  have  been  sent  with  Venus  and  Adonis  (1593).' 
The  last  four  lines  of  Sonnet  xviii.  were  more  likely,  I 


204  THE   SONNETS 

think,  to  accompany  Venus  and  Adonis  ;  for,  besides 
Southampton's  name  being  immortaUsed  and  rescued  from 
Death  in  the  dedication,  he  himself  was  figured  in  the 
young  Adonis  : 

"  Nor  shall  Death  brag  thou  wander'st  in  his  shade, 
When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  growest  ; 

So  long  as  men  can  breathe,  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  tkis^  and  this  gives  life  to  thee." 

The  words  I  have  put  in  itaUcs  could  hardly  refer  to  the 
Sonnet  itself,  which  was  of  a  private  nature  and  only 
meant  for  a  small  circle  of  friends.  Bacon  was  doubtless 
as  proud  of  the  "  first  heire  "  of  his  invention  in  poetry, 
as  he  was  of  his  first  heir  in  philosophy,  The  greatest  Birth 
of  Time. 

A  likely  date  for  many  of  the  Sonnets  is  midsummer 
or  autumn  1593,  when  the  theatres  and  law-courts  were 
closed  for  the  plague,  and  Bacon  was  lying  somewhat  of 
an  invalid  at  Twickenham,  and  able  to  do  little  else  but 
compose  verses.  It  has  been  remarked  that  there  is  a 
decidedly  autumnal  tint  about  many  of  these  Sonnets, 
and  for  some  reason  in  Sonnet  civ.  the  word  Autumne  is 
put  in  italics  in  the  original  edition,  being  the  only  one  of 
the  four  seasons  mentioned  in  the  Sonnet  which  receives 
that  destinction. 

The  succeeding  autumn  of  1594  would  also  be  very 
suitable  for  some  of  the  Sonnets,  for  we  hear  :  "  Mr.  F. 
Bacon  was  now  at  Twickenham  Lodge,  where  he  had  been 
some  time  alone."  He  writes  on  i6th  Oct.  1594  :  "  One 
day  draweth  on  another,  and  I  am  well  pleased  in  my 
being  here  ;  for  methinks  solitariness  coUecteth  the  mind, 
as  shutting  the  eyes  does  the  sight."  And  a  little  later, 
viz.  on  25th  Jan.  1594-5,  Bacon  at  Twickenham  writes 
to  his  brother  Anthony  :  "I  have  here  an  idle  pen  or  two. 
...  I  pray  send  me  somewhat  else  for  them  to  write 
out,"  &c.*  These  were  his  scriveners,  who  had,  we  fancy, 
a  good  deal  of  work  to  do,  now  and  then,  on  the  Shake- 
speare Plays  and  Poems. 

Bacon,  too,  was  about  this  time  getting  worried  and 

*  Birch,  Memoirs  of  the  Reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth^  i.  189,  198,  &c. 


MELANCHOLY   SONNETS  205 

depressed  because  neither  his  chief  hope  Essex,  nor  his 
friend  the  Vice-Chamberlain — who,  by  the  way,  was  Sir 
Thomas  Heneage,  who  had  just  become  Southampton's 
father-in-law — seemed  to  be  able  to  induce  the  Queen  to 
give  him  promotion.  All  this  would  affect  Bacon  and  his 
literary  work  about  this  time.  But  there  was  no  autumnal 
decay  about  Shakespeare's  present  prospects;  he  was 
flourishing  like  a  green  bay  tree,  and  putting  by  money 
every  year. 

Sonnets  xxvii.  and  xxviii.,  the  next  two,  from  their 
striking  parallelism  to  Lucrece  and  Romeo  and  Juliet,  fall 
about  the  same  period — perhaps  the  same  autumn.  The 
author  had  paid  a  visit  to  his  friend,  and  had  come  back 
tired  and  worn-out,  not  being,  just  then,  very  strong,  if 
my  contention  be  correct,  and  the  journey  might  well  be 
from  Twickenham  to  London,  or  wherever  Southampton 
happened  to  be.  The  Sonnets  of  this  early  period  show  a 
very  melancholy  feeling  in  the  author  ;  the  thought  that 
the  Beauty  of  Nature  and  all  the  fair  "  shows  "  of  the 
world  are  but  passing  shadows,  and  that  Time,  the  great 
and  cruel  tyrant,  wipes  them  all  away.  From  the  sequence 
xviii.-xxvi.  I  will  extract,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  annota- 
tions, 

Sonnet  xxiii. 

As  an  unperfect  actor  on  the  stage 
Who  with  his  feare  is  put  beside  his  part. 
Or  some  fierce  thing  repleat  with  too  much  rage, 
Whose  strength's  abundance  weakens  his  owne  heart ; 
So  I  for  feare  of  trust  forget  to  say 
The  perfect  ceremony  of  love's  rite, 
And  in  mine  owne  love's  strength  seeme  to  decay, 
O'ercharged  with  burthen  of  mine  owne  love's  might  : 
O  let  my  books  be  then  the  eloquence, 
And  dumb  presagers  of  my  speaking  brest, 
Who  pleade  for  love  and  look  for  recompence, 
More  then  that  tonge  that  more  hath  more  exprest. 
O  learne  to  read  what  silent  love  hath  writ. 
To  heare  with  eies  belongs  to  love's  fine  wiht  {sic). 

The  meaning  seems  to  be  that  the  author  is  too  much 
overcome  by  nervous  hesitancy  to  do  himself  justice  in 


2o6  THE   SONNETS 

declaring  his  love  for  his  friend.  He  cannot  trust  himself 
to  say  all  that  is  in  his  breast  (line  5),  and  in  his  dedication, 
which  is  one  of  the  ceremonial  parts  of  love's  rite  (line  6) 
he  fears  to  make  it  complete  and  "  perfect  "  by  his  own 
true  name  at  the  foot.  Personally  his  feelings  are  so 
strong  that  they  overcome  him  to  weaken  the  expression 
of  the  love  he  really  has  (lines  7,  8).  He  begs  that  his 
books,  his  Venus  and  Adonis,  his  Lucrece,  may  be  eloquent 
for  him  in  their  way  ;  they  are  dumb,  and  therefore  when 
they  interpret  the  feelings  of  his  speaking  breast,  there 
will  be  no  tremor  of  the  voice  or  choked  utterance 
(lines  9-12).  My  love,  he  says,  thus  expressed  by  my 
"  dumb  presagers,"  is  of  course  a  silent  love,  and  your 
ears  cannot  catch  its  quality,  but  you  have  eyes  to  read, 
and  eyes  often  play  the  finer  part  in  Love's  domain 
(lines  13,  14). 

May  it  not  also  be  that  the  poet  describes  his  love  as 
silent,  because  he  speaks  not  of  or  from  himself,  and 
therefore  is  personally  silent  ?  Another  man,  the  man 
William  Shake-speare,  speaks  in  person  and  signs  the 
books. 

Bacon  seems  to  suit  this  Sonnet  much  better  than  any 
one  else,  and  I  think  the  same  may  be  said  even  more 
strongly  of  Sonnet  xxvi.,  which  is  the  concluding  Sonnet 
and  renvoi  of  the  sequence.  This  is  the  Sonnet  which 
has  such  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  written  dedication 
of  Lucrece,  and  where  in  the  very  last  line  he  speaks  of 
showing  his  head,  and  indeed  it  comes  to  showing  his  tail 
too,  as  I  have  previously  endeavoured  to  place  before  my 
readers.  I  will  quote  the  last  six  lines  because  I  have  a 
commentary  of  my  own  : 

"  Till  whatsoever  star  that  guides  my  moving. 

Points  on  me  graciously  with  fair  aspect, 

And  puts  apparel  on  my  tattered  loving, 

To  show  me  worthy  of  thy  sweet  respect  : 

Till  then  I  dare  to  boast  how  I  do  love  thee. 

Till  then  not  show  my  head  where  thou  may'st  prove  me." 

I  think  the  poet  refers  to  his  auspicious  star  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  by  whose  guiding  influence  he  hoped  to  "  move 


BACON'S    "NORTHERN   JOURNEY"  207 

up "  considerably  in  the  political  world.  As  for  the 
"  apparel "  to  be  put  on  his  tattered  position  it  would  be 
robes  of  high  office — high  legal  office — which  he  hoped 
the  persistent  efforts  of  his  patron  and  friend  would  enable 
him  soon  to  assume.  These  would  hide  the  tattered 
poverty  of  the  portionless  younger  son  and  the  struggling 
lawyer,  and  would  make  him  worthy  of  his  loved  one's 
respect.  And  then,  when  that  position  was  gained,  the 
poet  might  "  dare  to  boast  "  of  his  hitherto  concealed 
friendship  and  love,  and  "  show  his  head  " — his  mono- 
gram in  Lucrece — to  prove  his  identity,  Fb  *^^  ■^^^-  ■^• 

I  may  be  altogether  on  the  wrong  track.  If  so,  there 
is  a  remarkable  series  of  coincidences  here,  all  pointing  to 
Bacon :   that  fact  can  hardly  be  denied  in  any  case. 

Sonnets  xxvii.  and  xxviii. 

These  two  Sonnets  refer  to  a  journey  taken  to  a  place 
some  distance  from  London,  in  which  the  writer  became 
"weary  with  toil,"  and  his  "limbs  with  travel  tired." 
Fortunately  we  can  here  fix  with  a  great  degree  of  prob- 
ability what  this  particular  journey  was,  and  also  that  it 
was  Bacon  who  was  the  weary  traveller. 

We  arrive  at  it  in  this  way.  The  preceding  Sonnet, 
XXVI.,  was  the  Sonnet  that  accompanied  Lucrece,  as  we 
have  just  seen  ;  and  since  Lucrece  was  registered  in  the 
Stationers'  Company's  books  under  date  May  5,  1594,  we 
may  place  the  date  of  the  Sonnet  in  the  earlier  months  of 
1594.  Since  the  order  of  the  Sonnets  is  (with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, arising  possibly  from  misplaced  leaves)  generally 
chronological,  we  may  expect  the  date  of  the  next  Sonnet, 
xxvii.,  to  be  somewhat  later,  in  the  summer  perhaps  of  the 
same  year,  for  summer  vacation  was  the  time  for  travel. 
And  that  is  just  what  we  find  to  be  the  case,  for  in  July 
1594  Francis  Bacon  took  his  "  northern  journey  "  for  a 
political  purpose  in  the  Queen's  interest,  and  of  course  in 
the  interest  of  Essex  as  well.  He,  however,  was  unfortu- 
nate with  regard  to  his  health  during  the  journey,  and 
on  the  20th  July  1594  wrote  from  Huntingdon  to  the 
Queen  telling  her  that  he  was  delayed  there  ;    but  his 


2o8  THE   SONNETS 

illness  did  not  confine  him  long,  for  we  find  him  in  London 
again  by  the  end  of  the  month,  and  well.* 

This  then  is  the  journey  that  suits  these  two  Sonnets 
excellently,  and  we  must  remember  that  we  know  of  no 
journey  of  Shakespeare  with  such  accuracy  of  date. 

Further  on  in  the  Sonnets  (xlviii.-li.)  we  have  another 
allusion  to  a  journey  that  the  poet  was  taking,  but  whether 
that  was  this  "  northern  journey,"  or  some  other  journey 
for  Essex  specially,  cannot  be  decided.  Bacon  tells  us  in 
his  Apology  for  Essex,  "  It  is  well  known  how  I  did  many 
years  since  dedicate  my  travels  and  studies  to  the  use  of 
my  Lord  of  Essex."  By  "  travels  "  he  may  mean  here 
"  labours,"  but  no  doubt  he  often  travelled  about  for 
Essex  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  word.  But  the  chief 
proof  connected  with  these  Sonnets  is  that  Bacon's 
northern  journey  exactly  fits  in,  while  there  is  nothing 
whatever  of  Shakespeare's  journeys  that  we  know  with 
any  certainty. 

Sonnets  xxix.-xxxvii. 

These  Sonnets  seem  to  refer  to  a  period  of  disgrace, 
and  consequent  depression,  in  the  writer's  life — he  has 
had  disappointments — "  I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing 
I  sought  "  (xxx.).  He  had  depressing  thoughts  of  death 
(XXXII.),  and  the  great  scandal  of  his  "  bewailed  guilt " 
makes  a  gulf  of  separation  between  them,  for  now  his 
friend  cannot,  having  regard  to  his  own  position  and 
credit,  publicly  make  a  show  of  kindly  affection  to  him 
(xxxvi. ;  cf.  also  cix.).  Still  the  poet  takes  comfort  from 
his  own  heart-union  with  his  friend  (xxxvii.),  though  he 
cannot  let  the  world  know  it  (xxxvi.).  Again  Bacon 
suits  better  than  Shakespeare.  Bacon  felt  keenly  the 
failure  of  his  hopes  of  advance  through  Essex,  and  possibly 
there  was  a  scandal  just  now  too,  for  Bacon  writes  to 
Cecil  as  if  he  had  shielded  him  more  than  once. 

From  Sonnet  xxxii.  we  can  get  a  probable  date, 
which  would  be  1598-9  ;  for  John  Marston  began  his 
literary  career  in  1598  by  publishing  Pygmalion's  Image, 

*  Cf.  Spedding's  Life  and  Letters^  viii.  305. 


PYGMALION'S   IMAGE  209 

which  was  of  the  style  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  and  was 
received  with  much  favour  and  laudation  as  soon  as  it 
was  out.  If  our  date  be  correct,  four  years  had  passed 
since  Lucrece  had  been  offered  to  Southampton  in  1594. 
The  poet  at  that  time  promised  to  give  further  and  better 
proofs  of  his  love  and  of  his  immortalising  verse,  but 
years  had  passed  and  he  remained  dumb.  This  is  referred 
to  in  several  Sonnets,  and  various  excuses  are  given.  In 
this  particular  Sonnet  (xxxii.)  the  excuse  is  that  he  had 
been  outstripped  by  others,  and  that  his  Muse  had  not 
grown  as  he  had  thought  and  boasted  that  it  would.  But 
he  hints  (line  12)  that  though  their  style  may  be  better 
than  this,  yet  they  cannot  surpass  his  love  for  his  friend. 
He  seems  to  augur  his  own  approaching  death,  and  begs 
this  request  of  his  friend  : 

"  O  then  vouchsafe  me  but  this  loving  thought : 
Had  my  friend's  muse  grown  with  the  growing  age, 
A  dearer  birth  than  this  his  love  h;^d  brought, 
To  march  in  ranks  of  better  equipage. 

But  since  he  died,  and  poets  better  prove, 
Theirs  for  their  style  I'll  read,  his  for  his  love." 

Since  Lucrece  had  been  dedicated  to  Southampton  in 
1594,  the  principal  poets  who  had  given  anything  really 
good  to  the  world  of  letters  had  been  Chapman,  Daniel, 
and  Mars  ton.  The  first  two  of  these  "  rival  poets  "  are 
referred  to,  as  I  believe,  in  the  Sonnet-sequence  (lxxv.- 
Lxxxvi.)  further  on.  Here  it  is  Marston  and  his  Pyg- 
malion's Image  which  is  alluded  to.  Marston  speaks 
of  his 

"  Stanzas  like  odd  bands 
Of  voluntaries  and  mercenarians  : 
Which  like  soldados  of  our  warlike  age, 
March  rich  bedight  in  warlike  equipage" 

So  here  in  all  probability  we  have  the  source  of  the  similar 
and  parallel  line  in  the  Sonnet.  I  believe  Mr.  Tyler  has 
the  credit  of  first  noticing  this,  and  he  justly  says  :  "  The 
analogy  is  too  close  to  be  easily  explained  away.  But, 
it  may  be  said,  is  it  not  possible  that  Marston  borrowed 
from  Shakespeare  ?     To  this  question  the  answer  must 

o 


2IO  THE   SONNETS 

be  given,  that  the  congruity  which  is  absent  in  Shake- 
speare is  clearly  seen  in  Marston."  *  The  "  bringing  a 
dearer  birth  "  to  march  in  better-equipped  ranks  can 
scarcely  seem  altogether  suitable,  while  Marston's  simile 
is  entirely  suitable.  Therefore  we  may  say  pretty  con- 
fidently that  Marston's  poem  preceded  this  Sonnet,  and 
so  the  autumn  of  1598  or  1599  is  a  probable  date  of 
the  writing  of  this  Sonnet.  This  is  the  very  period 
when,  as  we  know.  Bacon  was  greatly  depressed  and 
thought  much  about  death — perhaps  suicide — and  wrote 
to  the  Queen  and  others  about  the  untrue  libels  {men- 
dacia  famce)  that  the  vulgar  people  were  spreading  against 
him,  and  that  his  life  had  been  threatened.  But  all 
this  is  referred  to  in  another  sequence  (lxxv.-lxxxvi.), 
to  which  this  Sonnet  may  also  well  belong.  There  we 
see  the  same  prospect  of  death,  and  the  same  kind  of 
reference  to  other  poets  {alien  poets)  who  are  better  than 
he  is,  and  before  whom  his  Muse  is  "  barren  "  and  dumb. 
He  calls  his  muse  or  verse  a  "birth."  This  brings  to 
mind  Bacon's  greatest  Birth  of  Time,  his  early  opus 
magnum. 

But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Nash  in  his  preface 
to  Greene's  Menapho7i  uses  the  phrase  "  march  in  equipage 
of  honour  "  in  1589,  so  thus  Sonnet  xxxii.  may  have 
taken  the  phrase  from  him  before  Marston  wrote  his  lines. 

Sonnet  xxxvi. 

It  is  mentioned  elsewhere  how  strange  a  thing  it  is 
that  we  hear  of  no  personal  relationship  between  Bacon 
and  Southampton.  It  surprised  Spedding  very  much, 
and  when  I  first  looked  into  the  index  of  Spedding's  Life 
and  Letters  of  Lord  Bacon  for  the  volume  containing  the 
years  1561-1595 — being  the  first  thirty-four  years  of 
Bacon's  life — and  could  not  find  the  name  of  Southampton 
in  the  index  at  all,  I  confess  I  was  equally,  if  not  more, 
surprised.  I  had  reason  to  be  more  surprised  than 
Spedding,  for  he,  who  knew  Bacon's  correspondence 
better  than  any  man  in  the  world,  did  not  know,  as  I  do 

*  Tyler,  Shakespeare's  SonneiSy  1890,  p.  37. 


BACON   AND   SOUTHAMPTON  211 

now,  of  Bacon's  love  for  Southampton  and  of  his  dedica- 
tion to  him  of  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece. 

It  appears  from  Spedding's  exhaustive  researches  that 
there  is  no  record  of  any  letters  or  any  other  communi- 
cations having  passed  between  them  until  the  letter  of 
1603,  when  Bacon  was  over  forty-two  years  old  and 
Southampton  over  thirty.  And  yet,  putting  aside  the 
whole  history  of  the  close  Platonic  friendship  revealed 
in  the  Sonnets,  there  was,  as  Spedding  admits,  such  an 
intimate  connection  existing  between  both  of  them  and 
Essex,  that  they  must  have  been  brought  together  fre- 
quently and  on  intimate  terms. 

Why  then  this  burning  of  all  letters,  or,  if  not  burnt, 
why  this  absence  of  all  correspondence  between  such 
important  personages,  when,  as  we  know  well.  Bacon 
had  preserved  hundreds  of  letters  from  far  less  interesting 
people  ?  And  why,  when  Bacon  was  drawing  up  the 
"  Declaration  of  Treason  "  in  the  Essex  rebellion  case, 
did  he  mention  Southampton's  name  as  little  as  he  pos- 
sibly could  ?  This  Sonnet  xxxvi.  supplies  the  answer, 
especially  the  last  six  lines : 

"  I  may  not  evermore  acknowledge  thee 
Lest  my  bewailed  guilt  should  do  thee  shame, 
Nor  thou  with  publike  kindnesse  honour  me, 
Unlesse  thou  take  that  honour  from  thy  name  ; 
But  doe  not  so,  I  love  thee  in  such  sort, 
As  thou  being  mine,  mine  is  thy  good  report." 

And  if  we  compare  this  with  Sonnet  Lxxxix.,  where  he 
speaks  of  his  "  offence"  and  lameness,  and  says  he  will 
try  to  behave  as  a  stranger  to  Southampton  : 

"  I  will  acquaintance  strangle  and  looke  strange  ; 
Be  absent  from  thy  walkes  ;  and  in  my  tongue 
Thy  sweet  beloved  name  no  more  shall  dwell 
Least  I  (too  much  prophane)  should  do  it  wronge  ; 
And  haplie  of  our  old  acquaintance  tell," 

by  the  comparison  we  shall  see  plainly  why  Southampton 
is  so  persistently  ignored  by  Bacon,  and  also,  why  the 
mystery  of  the  Plays  and  Sonnets  was  never  revealed. 


212  THE   SONNETS 

It  might  "  haply  of  their  old  acquaintance  tell,"  and  also 
it  would  "  take  honour  from  his  loved  one's  name." 

This  is  a  cryptic  expression  quite  in  Bacon's  style, 
and  helps  considerably  the  increasing  body  of  evidence 
that  we  have  gathered.  For  it  points  to  Southampton, 
since  the  anagram  of  his  name  was 

Henry  Southampton  ==  Thy  Stampe-//^«<7z/r. 

or 
Henrie  Southampton  =  The  Stampe  in  Honour. 

There  were  also  two  other  published  anagrams  of  his  full 
name^  and  in  both  of  these  Honour  occurs  prominently — 

Henry  Wriothesley  Earle  of  Southampton. 
Anagrams. 

1.  Thy  H07wur  is  worth  the  praise  of  all  men. 

2.  Vertue  is  thy  Honour :  O  the  praise  of  all  men.* 

All  this  looks  very  much  as  if  the  name  from  which  honour 
could  be  taken  was  Henry  Southampton.  This  was  the 
same  young  nobleman  whom  Nash  addressed  towards 
the  end  of  1592  in  Tierce  Penilesse  as  "The  Matchless 
image  of  Honour  "  and  "  Jove's  eagle-borne  Ganymede." 
I  do  not  attach  reproach  to  the  term  Ganymede  applied 
to  Southampton  by  Nash  in  1592,  though  it  is  not  a 
pleasant  name  for  a  lad  in  any  rank  of  society,  and  it  is 
just  possible  that  Nash  knew  of  Francis  Bacon's  intense 
admiration  for  the  young  Earl.  But  it  is  one  thing  to 
be  called  a  Ganymede  when  you  are  one  of  "  the  glistering 
attendants  of  the  true  Diana "  (Ehzabeth),  and  it  is 
another  and  a  very  different  thing  to  be  called  a  Gany- 
mede when  you  are  a  prominent  member  of  the  King's 
own  set  in  the  scandalous  Court  of  the  succeeding  monarch, 
James  I. 

When  Algernon  Swinburne  in  his  Essay  on  George 
Chapman  speaks  of  Carr  as  "  one  whom  we  are  accustomed 
only  to  regard  as  the  unloveliest  of  the  Ganymedes  whose 

*  These  anagrams  come  from  a  book  in  the  Grenville  Library,  entitled : 
*•  The  Teares  of  the  Isle  of  Wight  shed  on  the  Tombe  of  their  most  noble, 
valorous,  and  loving  Captaine  and  Governour,  Henrie,  Earle  of  Southampton  :  " 
London,  1625,  410. 


GANYMEDE  213 

Jupiter  was  James,"  we  know  very  well  what  is  meant 
by  it,  nor  are  we  in  any  doubt  when  we  read  in  the 
same  essay  that  James  I.  was  "  a  king  who  combined 
with  the  northern  virulence  and  pedantry,  which  he 
may  have  derived  from  his  tutor  Buchanan,  a  savour 
of  the  worst  qualities  of  the  worst  Italians  of  the 
worst  period  of  Italian  decadence."  But  when  Nash 
speaks  of  young  Southampton  (his  own  Maecenas)  as 
"  Jove's  eagle-borne  Ganymede,"  he  is,  I  think,  only 
using  a  flattering  classical  allusion  (flattering,  because 
Ganymede  was  a  very  beautiful  youth)  in  a  perfectly 
respectful  manner. 

It  may  well  be  the  same  with  Bacon  and  Southampton 
in  the  intense  language  of  the  Sonnets.  It  may  be  quite 
harmless  as  between  the  intellectual  and  pushing  Francis 
Bacon  and  his  younger  aristocratic  friend  the  literary 
Earl,  and  I  have  a  strong  feeling  that  it  was  so  throughout 
their  close  acquaintance  ;  but  some  incidents  may  have 
shown  the  natural  bent  of  Bacon's  passion  even  to  the 
young  Earl,  and  I  cannot  help  feeHng  that  the  Sonnets 
refer  more  than  once  to  a  real  scandal  in  the  background. 
Moreover,  such  an  occurrence  or  such  reports  of  one, 
whether  true  or  not,  would  help  to  explain  in  some  degree 
Bacon's  very  tardy  success  in  mounting  the  ladder  of 
ambition.  When  we  consider  the  high  rank  to  which  he 
was  born,  and  the  persistent  place-hunter  he  always  was, 
it  does  seem  to  require  some  explanation  why  he  should 
be  allowed  to  pass  the  age  of  forty-six  before  anything 
like  a  real  rise  was  given  to  him.  But  more  light  will  be 
thrown  on  the  Dark  Lady  and  the  Southampton-Bacon 
scandal  when  we  come  to  Sonnets  xl.-xlii. 

Sonnets  xxxviii.-xxxix. 

These  two  seem  to  go  together,  and  not  to  be  con- 
nected with  their  immediate  antecedent  or  consequent 
Sonnets.  Possibly  an  odd  leaf  of  the  MS.  containing 
these  two  Sonnets  got  moved  from  its  proper  place.  They 
both  belong  to  Southampton,  and  seem  to  belong  to  the 
period  before  any  intrigue,  depression,  or  scandal  had 


214  THE   SONNETS 

come  about.     He  will  praise  his  beloved  friend  in  worthy 
verse,  for  his  friend  is  as  himself  : 

"And  what  is't  but  mine  own  when  I  praise  thee? 
Even  for  this  let  us  divided  live, 
And  my  dear  love  lose  name  of  single  one 
That  by  this  separation  I  may  give 
That  due  to  thee  which  thou  deserv'st  alone." 

Now  Bacon  uses  this  very  same  idea  of  the  first  line 
in  a  letter  to  his  cousin  Cecil.  "  I  write  to  myself  in 
regard  of  my  love  to  you,  you  being  so  near  to  me  in 
heart's  blood,  as  in  blood  by  descent."  *  This  idea  of 
the  personalities  of  two  lovers  being  mutually  inter- 
transfused  was  very  common  in  the  Italian  sonnets  of 
the  period,  and  arose  no  doubt  from  the  study  of  Plato, 
which  made  such  great  advances  in  Italy  just  before  this 
generation.  Shakespeare  would  not  be  likely  to  hear  so 
much  about  it  among  his  Stratford  or  theatrical  friends, 
as  would  Francis  Bacon  among  the  court  gallants. 

Perhaps  the  enigmatical  four  lines  that  follow  mean 
that  the  name  Bacon  is  to  be  lost  as  between  them,  but 
that  thus  separated  he  can  and  will  give  deserved  praise 
to  his  beloved  friend — but  by  another  name  or  in  another 
way. 

Sonnets  xl.-xlii. 

These  Sonnets  are  very  important  with  regard  to  the 
relations  between  the  author  of  the  Sonnets,  and  the  friend 
who  robbed  the  poet  of  his  mistress,  and  "  heaved  "  the 
owner  out  of  his  "  seat."  I  am  afraid  we  have  nothing  to 
do  here  with  any  Dark  Lady  of  the  Court,  any  maid  of 
honour,  any  lively,  forward  Mistress  Mary  Fitton,  or 
indeed  any  "  real  lady  "  at  all.  All  the  incidents  and 
allusions  seem  to  point  to  a  "  common  drab  "  of  a  very 
pronounced  kind. 

Anyhow,  the  chronological  order  of  the  Sonnets,  which 
none  of  the  best  critics  ever  venture  to  deny,  exclude 
Mary  Fitton  here,  for  she  was  too  young,  and  had  not 
long  been  at  Court ;    and  it  is  Southampton  who  is  the 

*  Abbott's  Francis  Bacon^  p,  173. 


A   "LOOSE-LEGGED   LAIS"  215 

fascinating  Adonis  who  carries  the  lady  off  from  a  former 
lover,  with  that  "  lascivious  grace  "  which  the  poet  and 
"  unseated  lover  "  was  fain  to  forgive.  But  we  know  of 
no  scandal  between  Mary  Fitton  and  Southampton  ;  it 
was  Pembroke  some  years  later  that  brought  her  to  grief. 
Moreover,  the  atmosphere  of  these  Sonnets  is  hardly  a 
court  atmosphere.  It  seems  much  more  like  the  atmos- 
phere that  John  Marston  so  skilfully  puts  into  his  canvas 
when  he  depicts  in  his  Satyres  the  baser  vices  of  society 
as  then  existing. 

It  is  well  known  that  in  Southampton's  youth  he  was 
a  licentious  ddbauche  of  an  extremely  attractive  person- 
ality. I  often  think  that  John  Marston  alluded  to  him  and 
his  drab  in  those  Satyres  that  were  burnt  by  the  Arch- 
bishop's order  in  the  Stationers'  Hall.  Who  else  could  the 
following  lines  so  weU  hit  off  ?  Sat.  II.  107  : 

"  In  faith  yon  is  a  well-faced  gentleman  ; 
See  how  he  paces  like  a  Cyprian  ! 
Fair  amber  tresses  of  the  fairest  hair 
That  ere  were  waved  by  our  London  air ; 
Rich  lac^d  suit,  all  spruce,  all  neat,  in  truth. 
Ho,  Lynceus  !  what's  yonder  brisk  neat  youth 
'Bout  whom  yon  troop  of  gallants  flocken  so, 
And  now  together  to  Brown's  common  go  ? 
Thou  know'st  I'm  sure  ;  for  thou  canst  cast  thine  eye 
Through  nine  mud  walls,  or  else  old  poets  lie  : 

'Tis  loose-legged  Lais,  that  same  common  drab, 
For  whom  good  Tubrio  took  the  mortal  stab." 

What  if  this  "  loose-legged  Lais  "  should  turn  out  to  be  the 
earlier  Lady  of  the  Sonnets  after  all  ?  She  was  a  strumpet 
who  wore  men's  breeches,  as  Marston  signifies  afterwards. 
Indeed,  som*^  solution  of  this  kind  clears  up  many  little 
difficulties  with  regard  to  the  peculiar  phraseology  here 
and  there  to  be  noticed  both  in  the  Sonnets  and  the  Plays. 
It  helps  to  throw  light  on  the  Proteus  of  The  Two  Gentle- 
men of  Verona,  and  the  Protean  Form  in  Sonnet  liii., 
with  its  "  substance  "  and  "  shadow,"  and  yet  more  light 
on  the  ladies  with  doublet  and  hose  [and  codpiece],  who 
make  a  decidedly  unfitting  appearance  in  some  of  the 
scenes  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays.     Women  did  dress  up 


2i6  THE   SONNETS 

as  men  in  those  days,  and  got  a  reputation  for  doing  so, 
not  always  of  a  very  savoury  character.  There  was  Long 
Meg  of  Westminster,  known  to  lovers  of  black-letter  catch- 
pennies ;  there  was  Moll  Cutpurse,  known  on  and  off  the 
stage  by  most  scandal-mongers,  a  little  later,  but  only  a 
few  years,  than  the  date  of  these  Sonnets.  Indeed,  Dr. 
Brinsley  Nicholson  suggested  that  the  "  loose-legged  Lais  " 
of  Marston's  satire  was  none  other  than  Moll  Cutpurse 
the  hermaphroditic  courtesan,  and  he  took  "  good  Tubrio  " 
in  the  lines  quoted  above  to  be  poor  Kit  Marlowe,  who 
lost  his  life  of  intellectual  promise  all  through  some  "  lewd 
love  "  and  bawdy  quarrel.  But  Marlowe  was  stabbed  in 
1593  and  Moll  Cutpurse  was  born  about  1584,  so  if  Moll 
was  the  cause  of  the  fatal  quarrel,  she  was  indeed  a  pre- 
cocious young  member  of  the  profession,  for  she  could 
not  be  much  more  than  nine  or  ten  years  old,  although 
she  was  doubtless  over  seven.  But  surely  Dr.  Nicholson's 
suggestion,  though  worthy  of  respect  seeing  from  whom 
it  comes,  will  never  do  ;  it  would  out-gallop  Mrs.  Gallup, 
for  while  she  only  says  that  Bacon  was  Queen  Elizabeth's 
son,  and  a  very  voluminous  writer,  the  Doctor's  sugges- 
tion would  lead  us  to  infer  that  Bacon  took  young  Moll 
Cutpurse  into  keeping  when  she  was  about  thirteen,  she 
having  been  under  Marlowe's  protection  some  three  or 
four  years  previously,  and  then,  when  certainly  under 
fourteen,  left  Bacon  and  gave  herself  up  to  Bacon's 
Master-Mistress  the  fair-haired  Southampton  (fair  Briscus). 
Whether  the  young  lady  wore  frocks  or  breeches  at  this 
early  age  is  doubtful ;  but  one  would  say  breeches,  from 
what  the  lynx-like  eyes  of  Lynceus  saw. 

But  a  truce  to  such  suggestions  ;  "  this  way  madness 
lies,"  and  a  kind  of  Italianated  sexual  perversion,  of  which 
in  these  days  we  can  hardly  credit  the  existence.  But  it 
was  by  no  means  rare  in  the  days  of  Bacon  and  Southamp- 
ton, and  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  theatres  and  the 
gardens,  which  so  easily  brought  vicious  people  together. 
One  has  only  to  read  Marston,  Hall,  and  the  others  who 
satirise  and  deplore  the  vices  of  the  age,  to  come  to  a  very 
sad  conclusion  as  to  the  real  amount  of  vice  in  EHzabethan 


PROTEUS  AND  ADONIS  217 

London.*  We  must  remember  these  satirists  are  not  un- 
worthy of  credit ;  they  are  educated  University  men  for 
the  most  part,  and  some,  such  as  Hall,  afterwards  Bishop 
of  Exeter,  and  a  good  Bishop  too,  were  eminent  for  their 
private  virtues. 

But  not  much  that  is  clear  can  be  gained  by  dwelling 
on  each  Sonnet  as  it  comes  in  order.  There  is  too  little 
to  fasten  on  with  any  degree  of  certainty.  There  seems 
an  allusion  to  a  journey  the  poet  took  to  some  place  in 
Sonnets  xlviii.-li.,  and  we  know  that  in  July  1594  Bacon 
took  a  long  journey  to  the  North,  and  was  stopped  at 
Huntingdon  by  a  painful  illness,  and  came  back  and  rested 
at  Cambridge  and  took  his  M.A.  This  may  be  the  journey 
referred  to  here,  as  it  is  in  Sonnets  xxvii.  and  xxviii. 
Anyhow,  we  know  of  no  journey  of  Shakespeare  for 
certain,  as  we  know  Bacon's  journey.  Sonnets  lii.-lv. 
may  be  apportioned  to  Southampton,  and  dated  before 
1598  rather  than  after.  We  have  in  Liii.  the  Proteus  of  the 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  and  Adonis,  and  the  hues  or 
"  hews "  and  "  shadows "  of  beauty  which  lent  such 
charm  to  Southampton's  youthful  face  in  the  writer's 
eyes.  And,  as  I  have  said  elsewhere,  it  is  not  improbable 
that  Meres  saw  Sonnet  LV.  in  MS.  before  1598  and  moulded 
his  Latin  praises  on  it,  as  that  the  reverse  should 
have  happened,  as  the  ordinary  theory  maintains,  and 
the  Sonnet  be  thus  made  later  than  Meres'  book. 
Sonnets  Lvii.  and  lviii.  have  been  already  referred 
to  in  connection  with  Pembroke's  letter  to  Cecil,  which 
was  meant  for  the  Queen's  eye,  and  possibly  written  by 
Bacon,  and  was  in  any  case  suspiciously  like  these  Sonnets 
in  its  wording.  After  these  Sonnets  we  have  a  long 
sequence  (lix.-lxxiv.)  dealing  in  a  depressed  tone  of 
pessimistic  philosophy  with  the  ravages  of  Time,  and  with 
a  world  made  all  awry  (lxvi.),  and  culminating  in  a  hint 
of  possible  suicide  or  assassination  (lxxiv.).  Now  all  this 
is,  I  maintain,  decidedly  Baconian,  and  not  Shakespearian. 

*  In  fact,  Marston  puts  the  case  very  tersely  thus : 

"  Ganymede  is  up  and  Hebe  down." 

— Scourge  of  Villainie,  line  49. 


2i8  THE   SONNETS 

In  Nov.  1599  Bacon  writes  to  the  Queen,  "  My  life  hath 
been  threatened,  and  my  name  hbelled."  He  also  writes 
about  the  same  time  to  Cecil,  "  As  for  any  violence  to  be 
offered  to  me,  wherewith  my  friends  tell  me  to  no  small 
terror  that  I  am  threatened,  I  thank  God  I  have  the  privy 
coat  of  a  good  conscience."  He  also  writes  thus  to  Lord 
Henry  Howard,  "  For  my  part  I  have  deserved  better  than 
to  have  my  name  objected  to  envy,  or  my  life  to  a  ruffian's 
violence." 

I  will  only  consider  in  detail  four  lines  of  this  section  : 

Sonnet  lix. 
"  If  there  be  nothing  new,  but  that  which  is, 
Hath  been  before,  how  are  our  brains  beguiled, 
Which  labouring  for  invention,  bear  amiss 
The  second  burthen  of  a  former  child  ! " 

Here,  I  contend,  we  have  several  ideas  and  phrases 
which  point  distinctly  to  the  philosopher  Francis  Bacon, 
and  are  very  remote  from  Shakespeare. 

The  first  two  lines  remind  us  of  Bruno's  philosophy, 
which  had  become  somewhat  the  fashion  with  the  cultured 
aristocrats  and  the  Sidney  set  since  Bruno's  visit  to 
England  in  Ehzabethan  days.  This  is  not  by  any  means 
the  only  allusion  to  this  somewhat  mystical  and  prophetic 
philosophy  in  these  Sonnets,  for  in  three  later  ones,  cvi., 
cvii.,  and  cxxiii.,  we  have  similar  ideas  put  into  the  verse. 

Bacon  would  be  no  stranger  to  this  intellectual  atmos- 
phere, and  could  breathe  freely  in  it.  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  Shakespeare  could.  Then  there  is  that  word 
"  invention,"  which  Bacon  had  almost  made  his  own ; 
he  was  always  "  labouring  for  invention,"  from  his  youth 
upwards.  And  then  consider  that  fourth  line  ;  it  was  a 
"  Birth  "—the  "  Greatest  Birth  of  Time  "—with  which 
he,  so  confident  in  his  own  powers  even  at  an  early  age, 
proposed  to  enlighten  the  world  and  to  show  forth  a  con- 
queror over  the  Domain  of  Nature,  and  afterwards  he 
returned  to  the  subject  in  his  Masculus  Partus  Temporis, 
the  first  germs  of  his  Magna  Instauratio.  By  his  "  Male 
Birth  of  Time"  he  means  something  "generative"  or  "fruit- 
ful," as  opposed  to  the  barren  philosophy  of  Aristotle. 


BACON   AND   BRUNO  219 

This  evidence,  though  only  indirect  and  inferential, 
seems  to  me  strong. 

The  possible  connection  between  Bacon  and  Bruno 
must  not  be  despised.  Bruno  was  in  London  from  1583 
to  1585,  living  with  the  French  ambassador,  and  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  Fulke  Greville,  Lord  Burghley,  and  other 
members  of  the  cultivated  aristocracy  connected  with  the 
court  circle,  knew  Bruno  well.  Bruno  was  a  very  little 
time  in  London  before  he  went  to  Oxford  to  maintain  his 
Copernican  theories  against  the  conservative  dons  of  that 
august  University.  The  occasion  was  a  function  of  honour 
to  Albert  Alasco,  Count  Palatine  of  Poland ;  and  Lord 
Leicester,  who  was  Chancellor  of  the  University,  went 
down  from  London  with  Alasco  and  a  company  of  court 
notables  (nobilium  cohors)  to  do  the  honours.  How  likely 
that  Bacon  should  be  one — how  next  to  impossible  that 
Shakespeare  should  be  there.  Bruno's  friends  in  England 
were  also  Bacon's  friends.  Hardly  a  man  could  be  named 
more  likely  to  be  conversant  with  Bruno's  works  than 
Bacon,  or  less  likely  than  Shakespeare,  who  did  not  leave 
Stratford  till  Bruno  had  left  England.  Yet  Bruno's 
peculiar  philosophical  ideas  are  deeply  imbedded  in  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  and  Sonnets.  Nor  are  we  without  a 
sort  of  corroborative  evidence  which,  considering  the  little 
we  really  know  of  Bacon  between  1580  and  1592,  is  worth 
recording  here.  Mr.  Nicholas  Faunt  writes  to  Anthony 
Bacon,  6th  May  1583,  just  about  a  month  before  the 
Bruno  court  function  at  Oxford,  and  tells  him  that  his 
brother  Francis  now  was  "  sometimes  a  courtier."  This 
is  in  our  favour,  for  Bacon,  who  took  all  knowledge  to  be 
his  province,  would  clearly  like  to  travel  down  with  a 
fashionable  court  company  to  Oxford  to  hear  Bruno  if 
he  could  bring  it  about. 

The  next  section  is 

Sonnets  lxxv.-lxxxvii. 

Here  the  poet  makes  excuses  for  his  verse  being  so 
*'  barren  of  new  pride  (lxxvi.)  and  tongue-tied  "  (lxxxv.). 
He  complains  that  his  "sick  Muse  doth  give  another  place," 


220  THE  SONNETS 

and  there  are  several  allusions  to  a  rival  poet  (one  or  more). 
To  this  vexed  question  of  the  rival  poets,  I  can  add  but 
little  to  help  the  solution,  nor  does  it  affect  the  Bacon- 
Shakespeare  controversy  to  any  great  degree. 

Marlowe  has  had  an  ingenious  defender,  but  his  erratic 
course  was  ended  in  1593,  and  this  date  being  before 
Lucrece  was  published  seems  to  exclude  him  from  any 
rivalry ;  but  Chapman  and  Samuel  Daniel  have  each  had 
very  expert  defenders  as  well,  and  perhaps  we  may  say 
of  them  that  "  honours  are  easy  "  in  the  earlier  Sonnets, 
but  Chapman  gains  points  towards  the  finish,  and  wins 
the  rubber  on  Sonnet  lxxxvi.  The  date  involved  is  the 
main  and  only  point  connected  with  the  Baconian  theory, 
and  it  comes  out  1598  or  1599,  a  very  suitable  date  as 
will  appear. 

Sonnet  lxxviii.  begins  thus  : 

"  So  oft  have  I  invoked  thee  for  my  Muse, 
And  found  such  fair  assistance  in  my  verse, 
As  every  alie?i  pen  hath  got  my  use, 
And  under  thee  their  poetry  disperse." 

"  Alien  "  is  one  of  the  few  words  put  in  italics  in  the 
original,  and  some  allusion  seems  intended.  I  suggest  that 
alien  points  to  Alley n,  the  actor-manager  and  partner 
with  Henslowe,  who  had  the  Rose  Theatre  from  1592. 
Thus  some  poets  or  poet-dramatists  connected  with 
AUeyn's  theatre  are  most  likely  meant.  Chapman  would 
suit,  and  Samuel  Daniel  as  well.  But  in  Sonnet  lxxxvi. 
we  get  a  rather  strong  proof  that  Chapman  is  alluded  to 
there  at  any  rate,  and  we  get  the  date  1598-9,  which  agrees 
very  well  with  the  date  we  inferred  from  the  parallel 
Sonnet  xxxii.,  which  recalled  Marston's  Pygmalion' si  mage. 
It  would  take  too  long  to  give  the  whole  proof  and  the 
parallel  passages  which  Professor  Minto  and  Mr.  Tyler 
have  ingeniously  worked  out,  but  they  show  that  this 
Sonnet  refers  to  Chapman's  Iliad  in  fourteen-syllable 
verse  (1598) — "  the  proud  full  sail  of  his  great  verse  " — 
and  also  to  Chapman's  Shadow  of  Night  (1594).  The  poet 
says  of  these  two  of  Chapman's  attempts,  "  I  was  not 
sick  of  any  fear  from  thence  "  ;   that  is,  he  was  not  put 


OVID'S   BANQUET  OF  SENSE  221 

to  "  silence  "  by  either  the  Iliad- or  the  Shadow  of  Night, 
and  then  gives  the  real  reason  : 

"  But  when  your  countenance  fil'd  up  his  line, 
Then  lack'd  I  matter  ;  that  enfeebled  mine." 

Neither  Minto  nor  Tyler  has  tried  to  explain  this  reference 
to  Southampton's  "  countenance,"  nor  is  it  known  that 
the  Earl  gave  Chapman  any  special  mark  of  favour  about 
this  time. 

But  I  have  a  suggestion  to  make,  which  would  be  in 
keeping  with  the  rest  of  the  explanation  of  the  Sonnet, 
I  think  these  last  two  lines  of  the  Sonnet  refer  to  Chapman's 
other  fine  poem  of  1595,  entitled  Ovid's  Banquet  of  Sense. 
This  most  sensuous  love-poem  was  undoubtedly  of  the 
same  class  as  Venus  and  Adonis,  and  it  was  a  dangerous 
rival  in  its  passionate  raptures  and  glowing  description  of 
voluptuous  male  and  female  beauty.  It  took  away  for 
itself  the  very  "  matter  "  of  verse  that  the  poet  wanted 
to  give  a  second  immortal  picture  of  Southampton,  as  he 
had  more  than  half  promised  his  patron.  Adonis  was  the 
"  counterfeit "  of  Southampton,  and  when  a  second 
counterfeit  of  Southampton's  manly  beauty  appeared  in 
finer  and  fuller  form  in  Chapman's  Banquet  of  Sense,  then 
our  poet  felt  he  had  indeed  a  rival  who  had  taken  the  very 
ground  from  under  him  : 

"But  when  your  countenance  fil'd*  up  his  line. 
Then  lack'd  I  matter ;  that  enfeebled  mine." 

The  fact  is  that  Chapman  in  Ovid^s  Banquet  of  Sense 
had  practically  expanded  a  portion  of  Venus  and  Adonis 
dealing  with  the  five  senses  (lines  433-450),  in  the  middle 
of  which  portion  appears  the  line  : 

"  But  O,  what  banquet  wert  thou  to  the  taste  ;" 

which  would  suit  very  well  as  one  of  the  lines  which  the 
rival  poet  filled  up,  for  Ovid^s  Banquet  is  mainly  a  discourse 
to  Corinna  (Julia)  of  the  five  senses,  which  are  all  men- 
tioned in  the  passage  of  Venus  and  Adonis. 

An  ingenious  writer  in  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  June 

*  Fil'd  (orig.  Qd.)=^ filled.     Lacked  in  next  line  shows  this. 


222  THE   SONNETS 

1901  has  given  several  reasons  for  supposing  Daniel  to  be 
the  rival  poet.  There  are  clearly  more  rival  poets  than 
one  according  to  the  explicit  statement  of  the  Sonnets 
themselves.  Daniel  is  most  likely  one  of  them,  as  I  have 
already  suggested.  This  section  also  contains  a  line  which 
is  a  difficult  one  for  Shakespearians,  but  suits  the  Bacon 
theory  well. 

"  I  grant  thou  wert  not  married  to  my  Muse," 

is  the  first  line  of  Sonnet  lxxxii.  But  what  force  or 
meaning  can  this  have  coming  from  Shakespeare  ? 
Southampton  and  Shakespeare's  Muse  were  married 
poetically  as  far  as  the  name  of  the  Earl  in  the  dedication 
and  the  signature  of  the  poet  in  full  at  the  foot  of  it  could 
celebrate  the  fact.  The  banns  were  fully  published,  and 
no  one  at  that  time  seems  to  have  thought  of  forbidding 
them  for  any  fault  or  error  of  name.  But  the  case  was 
very  different  with  Southampton  and  Bacon's  Muse. 
There  was  no  poetical  marriage  here,  nor  were  any  banns 
published  here,  or  even  the  two  names  coupled  together 
in  any  way  in  the  Temple  of  the  Muses.  So  Bacon  could 
truly  say  his  Muse  was  not  married,  whereas  Shakespeare 
could  not  say  this. 

As  to  the  last  Sonnet  of  this  section  (lxxxvii.),  be- 
ginning : 

"  Farewell !  thou  art  too  dear  for  my  possessing," 

it  is  SO  thoroughly  permeated  with  abstruse  legal  allusions, 
that  unless  the  reader  is  well  acquainted  with  what  is 
known  to  lawyers  as  the  "  doctrine  of  uses  "  and  that 
smaller  branch  of  the  subject  dealing  with  "  failure  of 
consideration  "  he  will  be  sure  to  miss  the  best  points 
of  the  Sonnet.  But  who  except  the  shining  lights  of  the 
Inns  of  Court  troubled  about  such  matters,  or,  indeed, 
ever  referred  to  them  ?  Surely  not  the  Stratford  player. 
What  omnivorous  general  reader  knows  anything  about 
such  matters  even  now  ?  The  inference  seems  inevit- 
able and  insuperable,  but  the  orthodox  look  at  it  and — 
pass  on. 


WAS   SHAKESPEARE   LAME?  223 

Sonnets  lxxxviii.-cv. 

These  nineteen  Sonnets  seem  to  refer  to  Southampton 
as  beginning  to  lead  a  gay  life  at  Court,  and  as  also  getting 
entangled  in  general  scandal  as  a  libertine.  The  date 
may  be  1595-6,  and  in  part  of  this  period,  as  we  know, 
Southampton  was  away  from  England  with  Essex. 
Sonnets  xcvii.  and  xcviii.  fit  in  very  well  with  this 
absence  and  separation  from  Bacon. 

As  the  "  lameness,"  which  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
admits  as  an  affliction  of  his,  is  mentioned  in  this  sec- 
tion (Sonnet  lxxxix.)  as  well  as  elsewhere  (xxxvii.), 
it  will  not  be  amiss  to  consider  it  more  closely.  What- 
ever it  was,  the  defect  was  with  him,  as  with  Byron, 
a  subject  about  which  he  had  unpleasant  feelings  of 
shame. 

Capell  and  other  Shakespearians  have  conjectured 
that  Shakespeare  was  literally  lame,  while  others  have 
thought  of  the  lameness  only  in  connection  with  Shake- 
speare's morals.  Mr.  Swinburne,  in  his  Report  of  the  Pro- 
ceedings, &c.,  of  the  Newest  Shakespeare  Society  (April  i, 
1876),  introduces  Mr.  D.  reading  a  paper  on  "  The  Lame- 
ness of  Shakespeare — was  it  moral  or  physical  ?  "  Mr.  D. 
assumed  at  once  that  the  infirmity  was  physical.  "  Then 
arose  the  question — In  which  leg  ?  "  and  then  the  dis- 
cussion proceeded  in  far  more  earnest,  courteous,  and 
serious  fashion  than  is  ever  granted  or  allowed  or  practised 
when  dealing  with  Baconian  heretics. 

As  Mr.  Algernon  C.  Swinburne,  besides  being  a  most 
distinguished  poet  and  man  of  letters,  is  also  a  high 
Shakespearian  authority,  I  will  give  his  report  in  full  of 
Mr.  D.'s  paper.  It  was  first  printed  in  the  Examiner  of 
April  I,  1876,  and  never  having  been  reprmted  as  far 
as  I  know,  I  think  it  will  interest  my  readers.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Swinburne  only  professed 
to  act  as  the  secretary  or  reporter  of  the  Society,  and 
therefore  cannot  be  held  responsible  for  Mr.  D.'s  views, 
but  I  do  not  think  he  would  have  published  them,  unless 
he  thought  some  good  Shakespearian  object  would  be 


224  THE   SONNETS 

obtained    by  their  publication.      I    therefore   reproduce 
them : 

"  Mr.  D,  then  brought  forward  a  subject  of  singular  interest 
and  importance — '  The  lameness  of  Shakespeare :  was  it  moral 
or  physical  ? '  He  would  not  insult  their  inteUigence  by  dwell- 
ing on  the  absurd  and  exploded  hypothesis  that  this  expression 
was  allegorical,  but  would  at  once  assume  that  the  infirmity  in 
question  was  physical.  Then  arose  the  question,  'In  which 
leg?'  He  was  prepared,  on  the  evidence  of  an  early  play,  to 
prove  to  demonstration  that  the  injured  and  interesting  limb  was 
the  left.  'This  shoe  is  my  father,'  says  Launce  in  the  Two 
Ge?itk7nen  of  Verona  ;  '  no,  this  left  shoe  is  my  father ; — no,  no, 
this  left  shoe  is  my  mother ; — nay,  that  cannot  be  so  neither : — 
yes,  it  is  so,  it  is  so ;  //  hath  the  worser  sole  J  This  passage  was 
not  necessary  either  to  the  progress  of  the  play,  or  to  the 
development  of  the  character;  he  believed  he  was  justified  in 
asserting  that  it  was  not  borrowed  from  the  original  novel  on 
which  the  play  was  founded;  the  inference  was  obvious,  that 
without  some  personal  allusion  it  must  have  been  as  unintelligible 
to  the  audience,  as  it  had  hitherto  been  to  the  commentators. 

"His  conjecture  was  confirmed,  and  the  whole  subject 
illustrated  with  a  new  light  by  that  well-known  line  in  the  Sonnets, 
in  which  the  poet  describes  himself  as  '  made  lame  by  Fortune's 
dearest  spite,'  a  line  of  which  the  inner  meaning  and  personal 
application  had  also  by  a  remarkable  chance  been  reserved  for 
him  (Mr.  D.)  to  discover.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  we 
had  here  a  clue  to  the  origin  of  the  physical  infirmity  referred 
to :  an  accident  which  must  have  befallen  Shakespeare  in  early 
life  while  acting  at  the  Fortune  Theatre,  and  consequently  before 
his  connection  with  a  rival  company — a  fact  of  grave  importance 
till  now  unverified.  The  epithet  'dearest,'  like  so  much  else 
in  the  Sonnets,  was  evidently  susceptible  of  a  double  interpreta- 
tion. The  first  and  most  natural  explanation  of  the  term  would 
at  once  suggest  itself;  the  playhouse  would  of  necessity  be 
dearest  to  the  actor  dependent  on  it  for  subsistence,  as  the  means 
of  getting  his  bread ;  but  he  thought  it  not  unreasonable  to  infer 
from  this  unmistakable  allusion,  that  the  entrance  fee  charged 
at  the  Fortune  may  probably  have  been  higher  than  the  price  of 
seats  in  any  other  house.  Whether  or  not  this  fact,  taken  in 
conjunction  with  the  accident  already  mentioned,  should  be 
assumed  as  the  immediate  cause  of  Shakespeare's  subsequent 


THE   MORTAL   MOON  225 

change  of  service,  he  was  not  prepared  to  pronounce  with  such 
positive  confidence  as  they  might  reasonably  expect  from  a 
member  of  the  Society;  but  he  would  take  upon  himself  to 
affirm  that  his  main  thesis  was  now  and  for  ever  established  on 
the  most  irrefragable  evidence,  and  that  no  assailant  could  by 
any  possibility  dislodge  by  so  much  as  a  hair's-breadth  the  least 
fragment  of  a  single  brick  in  the  impregnable  structure  of  proof 
raised  by  the  argument  to  which  they  had  just  listened. 

"  There  was  much  further  discussion,  and  a  paper  by  Mr.  G. 
on  the  quarrel  between  Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson,  which 
unfortunately  had  to  be  postponed." 

CIV.  is  an  important  Sonnet,  for  it  supplies  a  chrono- 
logical allusion,  and  these  are  scanty  enough  in  the  Sonnets. 
Three  years  have  passed  since  "  first  your  eye  I  ey'd,"  it 
says.  Now  this  peculiar  phrase  about  the  eyes  recalls  the 
early  Procreation  Sonnets,  i.  and  xvii.,  in  both  of  which 
the  youth's  eyes  are  specially  marked  for  admiration, 
and  such  very  early  Sonnets  could  not  refer  to  Pembroke, 
as  we  showed.  This  Sonnet  civ.  also  speaks  of  the  friend's 
"  sweet  hue,"  and  "  hue  "  is  a  Southampton  word  exclu- 
sively, so  we  get  the  date  about  1595. 

Sonnet  cvii.  is  also  a  crucial  Sonnet  as  to  date.  The 
two  important  lines  are  : 

"  The  mortal  moon  hath  her  eclipse  endured, 
And  the  sad  augurs  mock  their  own  presage." 

From  these  words  some  critics  date  the  Sonnet  before 
the  Queen's  death  (1601),  and  others  after  the  Queen's 
death  (1603).  It  is  pretty  certain  that  the  mortal  moon 
stands  for  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  no  title  was  more  popular 
for  her  with  the  poets.  But  what  does  "  hath  her  eclipse 
endured  "  mean  ?  Is  it  her  death  that  is  referred  to,  or 
has  she  endured  and  passed  through  an  eclipse — a  time 
of  dark  danger — with  Essex,  and  is  now  shining  brightly 
again  ?  On  first  reading  Death  seems  meant,  but  a  con- 
sideration of  contemporary  parallel  passages  points  clearly 
away  from  Death  and  fixes  the  Sonnet  at  about  1601,  the 
date  of  Southampton's  imprisonment,  apparently  hinted 
at  in  the  "  sad  augurs  "  whose  presage  about  his  success 
and   Essex   was   so   miserably   wrong.     The   author   of 


226  THE   SONNETS 

Henry  V.  would  be  a  "  sad  augur  "  now  in  1601.  But 
for  the  Queen  to  endure  an  eclipse  need  not  mean  her 
death.  Bacon  himself  shall  prove  this  beyond  contro- 
versy. In  his  History  of  Henry  VII.  he  says  :  "  The 
Queen  hath  endured  a  strange  eclipse."  He  also  writes 
in  1594  to  Lord  Keeper  Pickering  :  "  If  this  eclipse  of 
her  (Majesty's)  favour  were  past."  *  About  the  year 
1599  Bacon  writes  to  the  Queen  :  *'  I  beseech  our  blessed 
Saviour  .  .  .  that  I  may  never  live  to  see  any  eclipse  of 
your  glory,  interruption  of  safety,  or  indisposition  of  your 
person."  f 

The  first  two  lines  of  this  same  Sonnet  cvii.  refer  to 
Bruno's  Philosophy,  which  the  author-poet  had  read  in 
the  Italian.  All  these  things  point  to  Bacon,  cviii.  is 
connected  with  the  preceding  cvii.  and  with  Southampton's 
imprisonment,  and  seems  to  be  of  the  same  tenor  as 
Bacon's  letter  to  Southampton  after  his  imprisonment 
already  quoted. 

The  line 

"When  tyrants'  crests  and  tombs  of  brass  are  spent " 

of  CVII.  suits  1601  better  than  1603  for  date.  But  an 
earlier  eclipse,  the  attempted  murder  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
in  1594,  may  be  the  one. 

Sonnets  cix.-cxxv. 

There  has  been  a  period  of  absence  between  South- 
ampton and  the  poet,  and  the  latter  admits  sins  of  omission 
and  of  commission  during  this  time  ;  but  still  there  is 
nothing  in  all  the  world  so  dear  to  the  poet's  heart  as 
his  "  Rose  "  : 

*'  For  nothing  this  wide  universe  I  call, 
Save  thou,  my  Rose  ;  in  it  thou  art  my  all." 

There  is  no  very  clear  reference  to  date  in  this  sequence, 
but  it  seems  to  have  been  written  after  Southampton  had 
returned  from  his  Irish  expedition  with  Essex  (1599). 
This  may  have  been  the  absence  referred  to,  and  while 

*  Abbott's  Bacon,  p.  37. 
+  Spedding's  Bacon,  ix.  160. 


A  THREEFOLD   CHARGE  227 

the  Earl  was  away,  certain  indiscretions,  which  are  vaguely- 
hinted  at,  seem  to  have  occurred.  The  poet  confesses 
them  with  sorrow.  Whatever  they  were  they  caused 
much  "  vulgar  scandal,"  and  they  brought  odium  on  the 
poet,  for  his  name  received  "  a  brand,"  seemingly  a 
"  public  "  brand.  He  admits  he  had  made  himself  "  a 
motley  to  the  view,"  and  "  gored  his  own  thoughts  "  and 
"  look'd  on  truth  askance."  All  which  seems  to  mean 
that  he  had  acted  more  like  a  fool  than  a  wise  or  sane 
man,  had  wounded  his  self-respect,  and  paid  very  slight 
heed  to  truth  or  virtue  when  they  turned  their  admonish- 
ing eyes  upon  him. 

If  we  read  carefully  the  first  four  Sonnets  of  this 
sequence,  and  then  read  cxix.  and  cxxi.,  we  cannot  fail 
to  see  a  threefold  charge  admittedly  hanging  over  the 
poet's  head — a  public  odium,  a  vulgar  private  scandal, 
and  a  "  madding  fever  "  for  an  unworthy  syren.  I  con- 
tend, taking  into  consideration  the  evidence  about  Bacon, 
already  adduced,  that  all  these  three  charges  fit  in  with 
his  life  and  character  much  better  than  with  Shakespeare's. 
For  Bacon  incurred  much  public  odium  for  taking  a  part 
in  the  Government  prosecution  of  his  closest  friend  Essex. 
This  "  public  manner  "  of  proceeding  against  Essex  was 
imposed  upon  Bacon  by  "  pubhc  means,"  i.e.  his  public 
position  as  a  "  learned  counsel,"  and  he  hints  that  his 
nature  was  "  subdued  "  to  it  not  willingly,  but  of  public 
necessity.  This  is  his  excuse  in  Sonnet  cxi.,  and  he  lays 
the  blame  on  "  the  guilty  goddess  Fortune."  But  the 
public  opinion  was  strongly  against  Bacon,  for  Essex 
was  most  popular,  and  to  be  committed  to  custody  almost 
directly  he  returned  from  Ireland  raised  pity  far  and 
wide,  and,  to  use  Bacon's  own  words,  "  Pity  in  the  common 
people,  if  it  run  in  a  strong  stream,  doth  ever  cast  up 
scandal  and  envy."  *  The  people  and  the  friends  of 
Essex  suspected  an  enemy  at  court,  and  as  Bacon  had 
been  several  times  admitted  to  the  Queen's  presence, 
envy  and  odium  fell  strongly  on  him. 

Bacon  excuses  himself  to  Southampton  for  his  "  harm- 

*  History  of  Henry  VII.,  Works,  vi.  p.  203. 


228  THE   SONNETS 

ful  deeds  "  (they  were  "  harmful "  to  Southampton,  and 
we  know  Bacon  begged  hard  to  be  excused  acting  against 
his  former  friends)  by  reminding  him  that  Fortune  had 
obhged  him  to  take  up  "  pubhc  duties  "  and  "  pubHc 
manners  "  (and  not  over-scrupulous  were  these  last),  to 
earn  his  living  as  an  unprovided-for  younger  son.  I  know 
well  that  this  particular  Sonnet  has  been  thought  to  be 
the  best  proof  there  is  that  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
was  an  actor,  and  therefore  Shakespeare,*  but  the  "  harm- 
ful deeds  "  of  the  second  line  of  the  Sonnet  seem  to 
exclude  this  interpretation. 

The  "  vulgar  scandal  "  has  been  sufficiently  examined 
elsewhere.  Enough  here  to  say  that  it  is  Baconian  and 
not  Shakespearian,  cxxi.  deserves  careful  attention. 
The  love  fever  seems  to  point  to  Mary  Fitton  : 

"  How  have  mine  eyes  out  of  their  spheres  httn  fitted,  t 
In  the  distraction  of  this  madding  fever  !  " 

—Sonnet  CXIX. 

and  the  "  Syren  tears  "  are  Baconian,  as  we  see  by  what 
is  said  in  Bacon's  Essay  "  Of  Love  "  (1612)  :    "  [Love] 

*  Mr.  Tyler  says  (p.  270) :  "The  allusions  in  this  Sonnet  cxi.  to  Shake- 
speare's profession  as  an  actor  are  not  to  be  doubted."  What  Mr.  Massey 
says  on  this  same  Sonnet  is  well  worth  perusal,  both  on  account  of  the  con- 
vincing force  of  his  remarks,  and  because  it  shows  us  how  the  most  ingenious 
and  expert  Shakespearians,  arguing  from  an  unsound  hypothesis,  are  con- 
stantly wounding  and  shooting  their  own  side.  Mr.  Massey  proves  at  great 
length  that  this  Sonnet  cxi.  has  nothing  to  do  with  Shakespeare  and  the 
stage,  and  completely  demolishes  Mr.  Tyler's  assertions  and  allusions.  Mr. 
Massey  shows  that  no  one  has  "  ever  heard  of  any  *  harmful  deeds'  or  doings 
of  Shakespeare,  occasioned  in  consequence  of  his  connection  with  the  stage. 
Nor  do  we  see  how  his  name  could  be  branded  or  '  receive  a  brand '  from 
his  connection  with  the  theatre.  What  name  ?  He  had  no  name  apart  from 
the  theatre  and  the  friendships  it  had  brought  him.  His  name  was  created 
there.  His  living  depended  on  the  theatre ;  he  met  and  made  his  friends  at 
the  theatre ;  he  was  making  his  fortune  by  the  theatre  ;  how  then  should  he 
exclaim  against  the  theatre?  And  then  the  meaning  and  application  of 
*  public  manners '  and  '  public  means '  is  considered  through  several  pages, 
with  the  result  that  Shakespeare  and  the  actor's  life  is  not  referred  to  here 
at  all"  (^pp.  189-195,  private  edit.  1888).  Mr.  Massey  was  a  well-known  and 
staunch  Shakespearian,  and  laughed  Bacon  to  scorn,  but  he  rightly  excluded 
Shakespeare  here. 

t  This  word  fitted  is,  I  think,  rather  an  important  piece  of  evidence  in  a 
matter  where  direct  evidence  is  very  scanty — I  mean  the  matter  of  the  Dark 


BACON'S  PYRAMID   THEORY  229 

doeth  much  mischief ;  sometimes  hke  a  Siren,  sometimes 
like  a  Fury.'"     Cf.  also  De  Sap.  Vet.,  xxxi. 

Sonnet  cxxiii. 
This  Sonnet  and  some  others  are  supposed  to  show 
traces  of  Bruno's  philosophy,  and  Brandes,  the  great 
Danish  critic  on  Shakespeare,  inclines  to  the  view  that 
the  author  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays  and  Poems  was  well 
acquainted  with  Bruno's  curious  opinions.  (Cf.  Brandes, 
ii.  14,  &c.) 

"  No,  Time,  thou  shalt  not  boast  that  I  do  change  : 
Thy  pyramids  built  up  with  newer  might 
To  me  are  nothing  novel,  nothing  strange  ; 
They  are  but  dressings  of  a  former  sight." 

In  this  Sonnet,  besides  Bruno,  we  have  the  curious 
Baconian  doctrine  of  the  pyramidal  form  of  science  touched 
upon.  Bacon,  in  his  philosophical  works,  frequently 
advances  the  theory  that  knowledge  was  best  represented 
in  the  form  of  a  pyramid  gradually  tapering  up  to  the 
transcendental  from  the  broad  bases  of  Natural  Experi- 
ment.    {Cf.  Prof.  Nichol's  Bacon,  ii.  231.) 

As  for  Bacon  and  Bruno,  we  may  record  that  in  June 
1583  there  were  grand  doings  at  Oxford  in  honour  of  a 
"  comte  palatin  de  Pologne."  Bruno  was  there  and 
played  an  important  part,  for  he  sustained  an  argument 
against  the  most  famous  doctors  of  the  University,  de- 
fending the  system  of  Copernicus  against  the  older  views. 
Was  Bacon  there  ?  Not  unlikely,  for  he  was  fond  of 
hearing  and  seeing  these  Italian  freethinkers,  and  when 
later  on  another  famous  and  unfortunate  Italian,  Vanini, 
came  to  London  and  played  at  turning  Protestant,  we 
hear  that  Francis  Bacon  was  the  most  noticeable  man 

Lady's  personality.  The  use  of  the  word  fitted  here  is  unique,  and  it  has  a 
place  all  to  itself  in  the  New  Eng.  Diet. : 

*<  Fit  v^  obs.  rare^  trans.  To  force  by  fits  or  paroxysms  cict  of  (the  usual 
place) ;  c.  1600.     Shaks.  Sonn.  cxix." 

No  other  instance  is  known.  So  the  word  was  probably  invented  by  the 
poet  for  the  sake  of  the  verbal  allusion  or  pun  on  Mistress  Fitton's  name. 
All  this  is  quite  in  Bacon's  manner.  His  enormous  vocabulary  is  due  a  great 
deal  to  his  own  invented  words,  and  we  know  he  could  seldom  avoid  a  jest 
or  quip  if  the  opportunity  presented  itself. 


230  THE   SONNETS 

among  the  large  audience  that  assisted  at  the  usual 
function  held  at  such  conversions.  This  was  ist  July 
1612.  And  in  1625,  just  before  his  death,  Bacon  writes 
to  P.  Fulgentius  and  tells  him  that  he  remembers  writing 
a  daring  book  called  Temporis  Partus  Maximus  quite  forty 
years  before.  This  would  carry  us  to  the  exact  date  of 
Bruno's  works,  published  (1583-1585)  in  London,  which 
very  probably  had  stirred  up  Bacon's  thoughts  to  such 
metaphysical  matters. 

Where  was  Shakespeare  in  1583-5  ?  Ah !  what  a 
different  entourage  I  What  time  or  inclination  or  know- 
ledge of  Italian  would  he  have  just  then  to  deal  with  the 
high  question  of  "  the  prophetic  and  soul  of  the  world," 
other  mystical  matters  of  Giordano  Bruno  ?  He  had  a 
wife  who  had  just  presented  him  with  twins,  and  he  had 
his  bread  to  earn.  But  some  one  clearly  thought  about 
such  things  {cf.  Sonnets  lix.,  cvi.,  cvii.,  and  Richard  III., 
Act  II.  sc.  iii.  lines  41-44). 

We  read  that  "  on  the  night  of  Ash-  Wednesday 
1584,  Bruno  was  invited  by  Fulke  Greville  to  meet 
Sydney  and  others  to  hear  his  reason  for  his  belief 
that  the  earth  moves."  Bacon  knew  Fulke  Greville, 
and  there  are  letters  still  extant  between  them,  so 
Bacon  might  well  be  included  in  the  others  who  were 
asked  to  meet  Bruno. 

Sonnet  cxxiv. 

This  Sonnet  is  much  too  courtier-like  and  statesman- 
like for  Shakespeare  ;  it  is  thoroughly  Baconian.  Bacon 
here  states  that  his  love  for  Southampton  was  a  personal 
love  and  quite  apart  from  political  or  "  state  "  considera- 
tions, and  therefore  it  stood  independent  of  the  reverses 
of  fortune  (lines  1-8),  or  the  choice  (atjoeo-t?)  of  court 
favourites  (line  9).  Hereticke  is  in  italics  in  the  original, 
and  therefore  we  must  take  the  Greek  signification, 
"  seeking  or  choosing  for  itself."  There  is  also  allusion 
to  the  discontent  existing  after  the  death  of  Essex  among 
men  of  rank  {''our  fashion  "),  which  shows  the  author 
to  be  a  man  of  quality,  thus  excluding  Shakespeare,  and 


THE   "CANOPY"  SONNET  231 

suggesting  Bacon  and  the  date  1601,  which  fits  in  with 
the  rest  of  the  sequence. 

Sonnet  cxxv. 

This  is  the  "  Canopy  Sonnet,"  which  has  taxed  the  in- 
genuity of  many  interpreters,  and  dates  have  been  given  to 
it  varying  from  1588 — the  Armada  year,  when  EHzabeth 
went  to  St.  Paul's  in  state — to  1603-4,  when  King  James  I. 
made  his  progress  through  London  under  a  canopy. 

I  suggest  that  the  date  was  June  16,  1600,  when  the 
Queen  came  to  Blackfriars  by  water  to  grace  by  her 
presence  the  wedding  of  Mistress  Anne  Russell,  one  of 
her  maids  of  honour  and  also  a  cousin  of  Francis  Bacon. 
It  was  a  great  function  ;  Mistress  Mary  Fitton  was  there, 
and  took  the  prominent  part  in  the  masque.  William 
Herbert  and  Lord  Cobham  conducted  the  bride  to  church, 
and  the  Queen  was  carried  from  the  water-side  in  a  lectica 
borne  by  six  knights.  I  suggest,  as  highly  probable,  that 
Bacon  was  one,  for  although  not  yet  a  knight,  he  was 
cousin  of  the  bride,  and  on  most  intimate  terms  with  the 
young  noblemen  who  were  present,  and  therefore  may 
have  been  privileged  to  help  in  bearing  the  canopy  and 
escorting  the  Queen.  * 

*  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  expression  "bore  the  canopy"  is  a  purely 
figurative  one;  just  as  the  next  expression,  "laid  great  bases  for  eternity," 
dearly  is  so.  In  that  case  the  references  would  be  to  the  two  poems  dedicated 
to  Southampton — Lucrece,  and  Venus  and  Adonis.  And  other  parts  of  this 
Sonnet  would  agree  very  well  with  this  view  ;  he  now  asks  Southampton  for 
something  closer  and  more  hearty  than  formal  outward  praise  in  dedications  : 

"  No; — let  me  be  obsequious  in  thy  heart, 
And  take  thou  my  oblation,  poor  but  free. 
Which  is  not  mixed  with  seconds,  knows  no  art, 
But  mutual  render  only  me  for  thee." 

On  this  view  we  could  better  explain  the  curious  phrase  "not  mixed  with 
seconds  "  in  a  very  Baconian  manner  ;  it  would  be  a  jesting  pun  referring  to 
his  "second"  name  William  Shakespeare  being  mixed  up  with  the  oblation 
which  he  had  made  in  Lticrece  and  had  signed  "  Your  Lordship's  in  all  duety  " 
(  =  duity  =  duo).  I  am  rather  inclined  to  prefer  this  explanation  to  my  sugges- 
tion of  the  historical  wedding  canopy ;  for  the  author  of  the  Sonnets  is  most 
studious  not  to  let  drop  any  plain  hint  by  which  his  identity  could  be  proved, 
and  if  a  real  event  in  his  life  is  referred  to  by  the  words,  "  I  bore  the  canopy," 
the  writer  is  almost  uplifting  the  mask,  which  he  has  been  carefully  and  per- 
sistently keeping  on  throughout  both  series  of  the  Sonnets. 


232  THE  SONNETS 

As  to  the  informer  of  the  last  Hne  but  one,  there  is 
some  hidden  allusion,  for  the  word  is  one  of  the  few  placed 
in  italics  in  the  original.  I  think  the  poet  is  here  apostro- 
phising Sir  William  KnoUys,  the  Comptroller  of  the  House- 
hold, who  had  done  him  some  bad  turn,  perhaps  connected 
with  Mary  Fit  ton.  The  italicised  informer  would  be  very 
applicable  to  him,  for  in  the  Essex  trial  he  appeared  in 
that  rather  odious  position.  Some  remark  of  Cecil's  had 
been  mentioned  in  the  course  of  the  trial  by  both  South- 
ampton and  Essex  ;  and  they  were  asked  who  had  in- 
formed them  of  this  saying  of  Cecil's.  They  did  not 
wish  to  say  at  first,  but  at  last  it  was  reluctantly  admitted 
by  Southampton  that  Sir  William  Knollys  was  the 
authority  for  it,  that  he  was  the  Informer.  There  is  an- 
other word  too  in  the  Sonnet  that  points  to  this  same 
court  official  quite  in  Bacon's  manner — it  is  the  word 
"  control "  : 

"  Hence,  thou  suborn'd  informer  !  a  true  soul 
When  most  impeach'd  stands  least  in  thy  control." 

Now  Sir  William  was  the  Comptroller  of  the  Household, 
with  special  care  of  Mistress  Fitton  and  the  bevy  of  maids 
of  honour. 

If  Francis  Bacon  had  an  intrigue  of  any  kind  with 
Mary  Fitton,  the  Comptroller  would  be  the  most  likely 
man  to  impeach  one  or  both — for  he  was  very  partial  to 
Mary  himself,  and  would  have  married  her  if  his  old 
wife  had  not  been  in  the  way.  He,  too,  was  one  of  the 
three  Wills  of  a  future  Sonnet,  cxxxv.,  and  as  the  "Dark 
Lady  "  had 

"  Robb'd  others'  beds'  revenues  of  their  rents." 

—Sonnet  CXLIL 

very  likely  the  all-receptive  Mary  had  taken  the  rent  or 
"  benevolence  due  "  to  the  elderly  wife  of  her  "  Comp- 
troller "  Will.     But  that  is  another  story. 

As  to  that  word  informer,  we  must  not  forget  that 
jealousy  is  called  "  this  sour  informer "  in  Venus  and 
Adonis.  Perhaps  the  author  wished  to  remind  the  Earl 
of  Southampton  of  that  passage  as  well. 


"MY   OBLATION"  233 

This  Sonnet  also  contains  in  line  10  a  request  which 
we  may  certainly  term  Baconian  : 

"  And  take  thou  my  oblation,  poor  but  free." 

"  My  oblation  !  "  Why,  this  is  the  very  expression  Bacon 
used  when  he  presented  his  Advancement  of  Learning  to 
King  James  in  1605,  and  he  reckons  the  oblation  of  his 
book  to  the  King  amongst  the  "  freewill  offerings." 

Sonnet  cxxvi. 

This  Sonnet,  addressed  to  "  my  lovely  boy,"  is  gene- 
rally supposed  to  be  an  Envoy  to  the  preceding  Sonnets, 
or,  as  some  think,  to  the  whole  first  series. 

I  can  make  very  little  out  of  it.  Audit  and  quietus 
(lines  II,  12)  seem  legal  and  Baconian,  but  they  might 
just  as  well  be  Stratford  law  and  Shakespearian,  for  Strat- 
ford municipal  accounts  tell  us  that  on  Jan.  10,  1564, 

"  Sic  quieti  sunt 
Johannes  Taylor  et  Johannes  Shakspeyr." 

Here  we  have  a  decided  break  in  the  course  of  the 
Sonnets.  A  new  series  and  a  new  history  now  begin. 
We  hear  no  more  of  "  my  Rose  "  or  "  my  lovely  boy." 
Henry  Wriothesley  seems  to  disappear,  and  a  certain 
Will,  "  a  man  right  fair,"  plays  a  principal  and  unworthy 
part,  in  company  with  a  "  woman  colour'd  ill."  To  the 
latter  the  majority  of  the  remaining  Sonnets  are  addressed. 

But  before  we  quite  leave  the  first  series,  and  the 
hero  and  youthful  Adonis  who  figures  there  as  "  my 
Rose,"  let  us  consider  some  facts  which  may  suggest  a 
possible  reason  for  such  an  unusual  term  of  endearment 
for  a  male. 

In  February  1592,  Henslowe's  new  theatre,  the  "Rose," 
was  opened  on  the  Bankside  for  Lord  Strange's  Players, 
with  whom  Shakespeare  acted,  and  only  a  short  time 
before  this  same  company  had  an  important  rise  in  public 
esteem  by  acting  several  times  (six)  before  the  Court, 
while  during  the  years  previous  (1587-1591)  the  Queen's 
and  the  Admiral's  were  the  only  companies  who  performed 
at  Court  at  all.     This  new  favour  continued  in  after  vears, 


234  THE   SONNETS 

and  Shakespeare's  company  henceforth  had  the  pre- 
eminence in  courtly  favour. 

Fleay,  the  great  authority  on  the  actors  and  plays  of 
that  period,  attributes  this  change  to  Lord  Southampton's 
influence,  who  had  recently  entered  at  Gray's  Inn.  For 
although  the  Earl  might  seem  too  young  at  nineteen  to 
have  much  personal  influence  in  advancing  or  favouring 
any  particular  body  of  players,  yet  he  could  easily  induce 
Sir  Thomas  Heneage  to  aid  his  projects ;  for  Sir  Thomas 
was  fond  of  the  young  Earl's  widowed  mother,  and  after- 
wards married  her.  He  was  officially  connected  with 
the  direction  of  the  theatres,  and  in  him  afterwards,  in 
1594,  Bacon  found  a  firm  ally  when  seeking  office.  In 
fact,  Essex  and  Mr.  Vice-Chamberlain  (Heneage)  did  more 
for  Bacon  than  any  of  his  other  friends. 

Here  then  we  have  Bacon,  Southampton,  Shakespeare's 
Compan}^  and  the  Rose  Theatre  all  brought  closely 
together,  and  if  Bacon  and  Southampton  went  to  the 
Bankside  as  special  patrons  of  the  new  house,  and  sat  to- 
gether enjoying  the  hidden  allusions  of  the  plays — a  verit- 
able Damon  and  Pythias  of  the  newly  opened  Rose — may 
not  that  be  one  reason  among  others  why  the  "  lovely 
boy  "  of  the  Sonnets  is  so  often  called  "  my  Rose  "  ? 

Again  the  question  crops  up,  why  is  not  Shakespeare 
ever  mentioned  or  hinted  at,  if  such  interest  is  shown  to 
be  taken  in  him  and  his  fellow-actors  by  Bacon  and 
Southampton  ?  Why  this  conspiracy  of  silence  ?  I 
think  the  somewhat  parallel  case  of  Sir  Walter  Scott 
throws  light  on  this.  The  author  of  Waverley  used  to 
place  poetical  mottoes  as  headings  to  the  chapters  in  his 
novels.  He  quoted  from  many  different  poets,  but  he 
never  (with  one  exception)  quoted  from  a  poet  named 
Walter  Scott,  who  was  often  in  men's  mouths  and  much 
admired  just  then.  This  was  remarked  upon  as  suspicious 
at  the  time.  But  it  was  soon  seen  that  Sir  Walter  did 
not  wish  to  "  repeat  himself."  Is  that  why  Bacon  never 
mentions  Shakespeare  ?  Perhaps  it  is  one  reason — but 
there  are  more  serious  reasons  in  this  case  of  implicated 
scandal  and  odium. 


SHAKESPEARE   IGNORED  235 

But  not  only  does  Bacon  never  mention  Shakespeare, 
but  a  great  many  other  contemporaries  never  once  men- 
tion him,  even  men  who  had  written  many  voluminous 
works,  such  as  Selden  and  Clarendon.  Look,  too,  at  the 
extraordinary  case  of  Henslowe  and  AUeyn.  If  any  men 
in  the  dramatic  world  were  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
Shakespeare,  and  also  knew  his  connection  with  South- 
ampton, and  perhaps  Bacon,  it  was  these  two  managers 
of  theatres,  of  the  "  Rose  "  for  many  years,  and  the 
*'  Fortune  "  as  well.  Yet  Henslowe's  Diary,  which  con- 
tains frequent  mention  of  many  actors  and  playwrights 
for  a  long  course  of  years,  never  so  much  as  mentions 
Shakespeare  directly  or  indirectly.  Ben  Jonson,  Dekker, 
Chettle,  Munday,  Drayton,  Marston,  and  others  appear 
frequently  in  the  comic  spelling  of  this  successful  manager, 
but  his  Diary  does  not  make  a  single  attempt  to  spell 
the  very  variable  name  of  the  Stratford  player.  Neither 
do  the  AUeyn  papers,  although  they  mention  many 
contemporary  dramatists.  Commendatory  verses  were 
common  enough  in  those  days,  but  in  Shakespeare's  life- 
time he  neither  received  any  in  connection  with  his  own 
books  nor  composed  any  for  other  people's  books. 

The  orthodox  Shakespearians  are  always  dwelling  on 
the  crushing  weight  of  contemporary  evidence,  and  suppose 
that  alone  to  be  an  insuperable  argument.  It  is  really 
nothing  of  the  kind.  They  put  a  false  estimate  upon  it. 
There  is  reference  certainly  now  and  again  to  "  sweet  Mr. 
Shakespeare,"  "  gentle  Shakespeare,"  and  the  like  ;  and 
Venus  and  Adonis y  and  Tarquin  and  Lucrece,  were  favourite 
poems,  and  were  connected  with  a  name  or  pen-name  of 
Shakespeare ;  but  seldom  can  we  find  anything  clearly 
pointing  out  the  Stratford  actor,  and  again  and  again  his 
famous  contemporaries  utterly  ignore  this  surprising  genius 
when  there  seems  every  reason  to  expect  a  notice  of  him. 

We  now  come  to  the  second  series  : 

Sonnets  cxxvii.-clii. 

A  "  Dark  Lady  "  fills  nearly  all  the  canvas  in  the 
remarkable  picture  here  put  before  us.     She  is  such  a 


236  THE   SONNETS 

lady  as  no  amorous  sonneteer  had  ever  ventured  to  depict 
before,  and  this  is  one  reason  for  beheving  in  her  personal 
existence,  and  for  inferring  that  here  certainly  we  have 
no  glorified  or  spiritualised  creation  of  a  poet's  brain. 
Her  eyes  are  raven  black,  her  hair  is  like  unto  black 
wires,  there  are  no  roses  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  com- 
plexion seems  to  be  anything  but  a  good  one,  and  her 
breasts  are  by  no  means  the  rising  hills  of  snow  that 
inflame  rather  than  cool  the  lover's  passion — they  are 
dun.    The  poet  feels  that  he  cannot  say  of  her  : 

"  Vera  incessu  patuit  Dea," 

and  so  he  says,  rather  prosaically  : 

"  My  mistress  when  she  walks  treads  on  the  ground." 

And  yet  in  spite  of  all  her  defects  there  is  this  passionate 
finish  : 

"  And  yet,  by  heaven,  I  think  my  love  as  rare 
As  any  she  bely'd  with  false  compare." 

It  seems  by  Sonnet  cxxviii.  that  the  lady  was  a 
fascinating  player  on  the  virginals,  and  therefore  we  may 
infer  she  was  of  good  birth  and  expensively  educated. 
The  poet  asks  her  (line  14)  to  give  him  her  "  lips  to  kiss." 
Surely  such  aristocratic  lips  were  not  for  Shakespeare! 
Then  there  is  the  well-known  incident  of  the  poet's  dear 
male  friend  who  so  treacherously  robbed  the  poet  of  this 
Dark  Lady  of  his  heart. 

Then  we  have  two  singular  Sonnets  playing  on  the 
word  Will  in  a  most  intricate  and  puzzling  fashion  (cxxxv. 
and  cxxxvi.).  I  have  already  given  my  reasons  for 
supposing  the  three  Wills  are  William  Herbert,  Sir  William 
KnoUys,  and  Will  Kemp  the  clown  and  acrobatic  dancer, 
and  have  quoted  the  court  ballad  which  coupled  Mary 
Fitton  with  the  clown.  This  is  the  only  evidence  we 
have  as  against  Kemp,  it  is  true,  and  no  one  would 
have  thought  of  him,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  ballad. 
When  first  I  saw  the  ballad  I  thought  the  "  clowne  "  was 
Shakespeare,  so  called  as  a  Warwickshire  yokel ;  but 
remembering  that  Kemp  had  dedicated  his  one  famous 


SIR   WILLIAM   KNOLLYS  237 

book  to  a  Fitton  who  was  a  maid  of  honour,  and  most 
likely  Mary  Fitton  the  excellent  dancer,  I  then,  on  this 
corroborative  evidence,  took  Kemp  to  be  more  likely 
than  Shakespeare. 

Sir  William  KnoUys  is  another  new  candidate  for 
admission  into  the  trio  of  Wills,  but  is  not  of  my  intro- 
ducing. His  claim  has  sprung  up  from  the  old  documents 
and  letters  in  the  muniment  room  at  Arbury,  the  country 
house  of  the  Newdegate  family,  into  which  family  Mary 
Fitton's  elder  sister  married.  From  his  letters  to  Mary's 
married  sister  (Anne  Newdegate)  he  plainly  shows  his 
love  for  Mary,  and  that  he  would  have  liked  her  to  have 
made  him  a  father.  But  unfortunately  Sir  William  was 
encumbered  with  a  wife  considerably  his  senior ;  how- 
ever, it  is  believed  that  he  promised  to  marry  her  when 
his  wife  died,  and  thus  they  were  betrothed  in  a  way. 
But  as  the  Sonnets  show  plainly,  the  Dark  Lady  would 
break  bed-vows  or  any  vows,  and  would  think  nothing 
of  being  "  twice-forsworn." 

Queen  Elizabeth's  maids  of  honour  seem  to  have  been 
a  rather  noisy  and  frisky  company  of  girls  at  bed-time, 
and  Mary  Fitton  was  presumably  by  no  means  the  most 
sedate.  She  had  also  some  curious  experiences  with  the 
second  Will.  Sir  Nicholas  I'Estrange  reports  that  when 
Sir  William  Knollys  lodged  at  Court  (which  was  his  rightful 
position,  being  Comptroller  of  the  Household)  "  some  of 
the  ladyes  and  Maydes  of  Honour  used  to  frisk  and  hey 
about  in  the  next  room,  to  his  extreme  disquiete  a  nights, 
though  he  often  warned  them  of  it ;  at  last  he  getts  in 
one  night  at  their  revells,  stripps  off  his  shirt,  and  so 
with  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  his  nose  and  Aretine  in  his 
hand,  comes  marching  in  at  a  posteme  door  of  his  own 
chamber,  reading  very  gravely,  full  upon  the  faces  of 
them."  He  enjoyed  his  joke,  "  for  he  often  faced  them 
and  often  traverst  the  room  in  this  posture  above  an 
hour." 

What  must  his  wife  have  thought,  if  she  heard  of  it ! 
And  what  must  the  girls  have  thought  when  they  heard, 
many  years  after,  that  Sir  William  had  become  a  sure 


238  THE   SONNETS 

and  onlie  (?)  begetter  at  the  age  of  eighty-four.*  Surely 
they  could  not  but  recall  the  gymnosophist  who  studied 
his  "  Aretine  "  and  tried  to  send  them  all  to  bed  in  the 
earlier  days  of  their  love's  young  dream. 

iTiere  was  evidently  something  out  of  the  common  in 
this  scandal  with  the  maid  of  honour,  for  Sir  Robert  Cecil, 
writing  to  Sir  George  Carew  on  Feb.  5,  1601,  uses  these 
rather  suspicious  words  :  "  We  have  no  news,  but  that 
there  is  a  misfortune  befallen  Mistress  Fitton,  for  she  is 
proved  with  child,  and  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  being 
examined,  confesseth  a  fact,  but  utterly  renounceth  all 
marriage."  What  was  this  fact,  or  perhaps  fault,  that 
may  have  induced  him  to  renounce  his  serious  responsi- 
bility ?  Was  the  "  clowne,"  from  whom  Pembroke  took 
her,  brought  into  the  matter,  or  did  the  Comptroller 
"  impeach  "  Francis  Bacon  ?  We  cannot  tell ;  but  the 
more  we  search  into  the  unpleasant  mystery  of  the  three 
Wills,  the  less  can  we  find  any  evidence  implicating  Will 
Shakespeare.  Of  course  there  remains,  and  always  must 
remain,  that  enigmatic  closing  distich  of  Sonnet  cxxxvi.  : 

"  Make  but  my  name  thy  love,  and  love  that  still. 
And  then  thou  lov'st  me, — for  my  name  is  IVt//." 

Until  it  be  definitely  proved  that  the  writer  means 
by  these  lines  that  his  name  is  Will  Shakespeare,  I  cannot 

*  For  the  remarkable  Earl  of  Banbury  paternity  case  see  A^a/.  Dicf.  Biog.^ 
s.v.  "Banbury."  When  Edward  was  born,  the  father,  William  Knollys, 
first  Earl  of  Banbury  (the  "  Controller"),  was  eighty  years  old,  and  when  the 
second  son  Nicholas  was  born,  he  was  eighty-four  ! 

The  legal  doctrine  is  "  Pater  est  quern  nuptice  demonstrant ^^  but  the  House 
of  Lords  has  repeatedly  refused  to  admit  the  legitimacy  of  the  Countess  of  Ban- 
bury's sons,  and  so  their  descendants  are  without  their  titles  to  the  present  day. 

One  is  rather  reminded  of  the  grey-haired  old  gentleman  who  one  morning 
at  his  club  pointed  out  with  glee  to  a  friend  the  announcement  in  the  Timesy 
that  his  wife  had  again  given  him  a  son  ;  but  was  rather  taken  aback  when 
his  friend,  in  a  voice  of  dismay,  exclaimed  "Good  God,  whom  do  you 
suspect?"  Such  a  question  might  well  have  been  addressed  to  the  first 
Earl  of  Banbury. 

I  am  afraid,  too,  that  the  book  this  virile  old  gentleman  held  in  his  hand 
was  even  worse  than  the  modern  reader  may  suspect.  Marston  tells  us  that 
Italianated  Englishmen  used  to  bring  home  "  Aretine's  pictures  "  with  them 
from  Venice  {Satire  II.  145);  these  would  be  the  infamous  "positions"  of 
Giulio  Eomano,  with  verses  by  Aretin  to  accompany  them. 


THE   THREE   WILLS  239 

accept  the  ordinary  solution.  There  is  so  much  word- 
play in  the  various  uses  of  Will,  that  we  must  always  be 
in  some  doubt  as  to  what  the  writer  of  the  Sonnets  really 
means  here. 

In  consequence  of  this  enigmatical  pleasantry  and 
constant  punning  reiteration  on  the  word  "  Will,"  Mr. 
Sidney  Lee,  in  the  Fortnightly  Review  (1888),  wants  to 
brush  aside  all  inferences  concerning  Will  Herbert,  Will 
Shakespeare,  and  Will  KnoUys.     He  tries  to  do  so  by 
heaping  up  instances  of  playful  contemporary  reference 
to  Will  in  the  sense  of  lust  or  wilful  lechery,  and  adds 
in  a  note  (p.  219)  that  "  the  italics  in  the  Sonnets  may 
be  disregarded,  they  only  confuse  the  interpretation"  (!). 
I  fancy  the  truth  is,  he  feels  that  they  confuse  his  inter- 
pretation.   But  his  argument  makes  it  pretty  clear  that  the 
writer  might  have  meant  by  "my  name  is  WiW^  something 
very  different  from  Will  Shakespeare.     The  idea  intended 
to  be  conveyed  may  well  be  something  oft  his  kind  :  "  Love 
the  name  Will,  for  that  so  well  describes  me  and  my  pas- 
sionate desire  for  you,  that  I  may  claim  the  name  myself — 
I  am  indeed  Will  personified  in  my  wilful  passion  for  you." 
Or  again,  Will  or  Willy  was  a  common  poetic  name  for 
a  pastoral  love-poet,  and  the  author  of  Venus  and  Adonis 
was  that  par  excellence.    He  might  have  been  "  Shepherd 
Will,"  just  as  another  fine  poet  was  "  Shepherd  Tony." 
Or  again,  but  this  seems  more  unlikely,  Bacon,  as  the 
writer,  might  mean  that  to  the  world  at  large  his  name 
as  author  of  the  Shake-speare  "  sugred  "  Sonnets  and  the 
Shake-speare  Plays  was  not  Francis,  but  Will. 

At  least,  then,  we  may  say  that  there  are  such  suffi- 
ciently good  alternative  explanations,  as  to  prevent  the 
interpretation  of  Will  Shakespeare  as  the  name  of  the 
author  being  considered  a  certainty. 

Sonnet  cxxxvii. 

This  sonnet  is  an  important  one,  for  it  shows,  by 
metaphors  in  no  waj^s  obscure,  what  the  moral  character 
of  the  "  Dark  Lady  "  really  was.    She  was 
"  The  bay  where  all  men  ride." 


240  THE  SONNETS 

If  Mary  Fitton,  the  young  maid  of  honour,  is  meant,  this 
statement  is  certainly  startling.  The  Masques  and  Revels 
of  the  Court  of  our  great  Virgin  Queen  must  have  con- 
cealed a  state  of  morality  far  worse  than  our  historians 
ever  gave  it  credit  for.  We  know  Lady  Anne  Bacon 
made  great  complaints  of  Essex,  and  perhaps  other 
young  gallants  as  well,  being  too  free  with  her  nieces  the 
Russells  and  other  maids  of  honour  ;  but  Lady  Anne  was 
a  rigid  precisian,  and  may  have  therefore  imagined  more 
evil  than  really  existed.  But  here  we  have  the  Dark 
Lady  spoken  of  in  terms  only  beiitting  the  vilest  and 
commonest  "  drab."  In  fact,  a  few  Ihies  farther  on,  this 
same  lady  is  called  "  the  wide  world's  common  place." 
The  distich  is  : 

"  Why  should  my  heart  think  that  a  several  plot 
Which  my  heart  knows  the  wide  world's  common  place. 

This  reference  to  a  common  and  its  enclosure  into 
severals  may  be  compared  with  what  Bacon  says  in  a 
letter  to  Essex  in  1595  after  he  had  received  from  the 
Earl  a  valuable  present  of  land,  probably  in  Twickenham 
Park  :  "  I  reckon  myself,"  he  writes,  "  as  a  common, 
and  as  much  as  is  lawful  to  be  enclosed  of  a  common,  so 
much  your  lordship  shall  be  sure  to  have." 

In  Lovers  Labour^s  Lost,  Act  II.  sc.  i.,  we  have 
"  My  lips  are  no  common  though  several  they  be." 

But  this  question  of  the  Dark  Lady  and  Mary  Fitton  is 
further  discussed  in  the  chapter  on  "  Had  Bacon  a 
Mistress  ?  " 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  private  records  of  the 
Newdegate  family  seem  to  show  that  the  Elizabethan 
maid  of  honour  belonged  decidedl}^  to  that  unfortunate 
class  of  women  who  are  described  as  "  women  with  a 
past."     We  find  this  portion  of  her  MS.  pedigree  : 

Capt.  Lougher,    =    MARY    FITTON    =    Capt.  Polwhele, 

\st  husband.  Maid  of  Honour,  ind  husband. 

had  one  bastard 

by  Wm.,  E.  of  Pembroke, 

and  two  bastards  by  Sir 

Richard  Leveson,  Kt. 


A   LADY'S   RECORD  241 

This  is  bad  enough  as  it  stands,  but  what  makes  it 
still  worse  is  that  genealogists  cannot  agree  as  to  whether 
Captain  Lougher  was  her  first  husband  or  her  second — 
she  was  a  lady  evidently  very  "  mixed  "  in  her  matri- 
monial relations.  And  then  there  was  Will  Kemp  the 
"  clowne,"  who  probably  coached  her  for  the  intricate 
steps  in  the  Court  masque  dances,  and  last  (if  she  had  a 
last)  there  was  Sir  William  Knollys,  the  grave  old  gentle- 
man who  walked  up  and  down  before  the  maids  of  honour 

in  a  kind  of  "  undress  "  uniform  with  his  A in  his 

hand.     With  such  a  record,  I  dare  not  say  that  Mary 
Fitton  can  not  be  the  lady  hinted  at  in  the  present  Sonnet. 

Sonnet  cxxxviii. 
This  is  one  of  the  two  Sonnets  printed  piratically  by 
Jaggard  in  1599.  It  is  important  for  our  purpose,  because 
here  we  have  the  author  calling  himself  old  at  some 
period  before  1599.  We  are  here  on  terra  firma,  and 
taking  the  supposition  that  these  Sonnets  were  only  just 
written,  we  have  the  writer  (if  Shakespeare)  speaking  of 
himself  as  old  in  his  thirty-fifth  year  and  (if  Bacon)  in 
his  thirty-eighth  year.  Neither  age  quite  warrants  the 
appellation  old,  but  the  Sonnet  becomes  much  more 
suited  to  the  assumption  of  Baconian  authorship,  because 
Bacon  has  spoken  of  his  being  aged  while  yet  in  his  prime, 
and  Shakespeare  has  said  nothing  to  that  effect. 

Sonnet  cxliii. 
This  Sonnet,  with  its  simile  of  a  "  careful  housewife  " 
running  after  a  bird,  probably  a  chicken,  while  her  own 
child  keeps  running  after  her,  reminds  one  very  much  of 
Bacon's  simile  in  his  letter  to  Fulke  Greville  in  1595.  He 
is  complaining  of  the  want  of  success  that  attends  his 
pursuit  of  the  Queen's  favour.  "  For  to  be,  as  I  told  you, 
like  a  child  following  a  bird,  which  when  he  is  nearest 
flieth  away  and  lighteth  a  little  before,  and  then  the  child 
after  it  again,  and  so  in  infinitum,  I  am  weary  of  it."  * 

*  This  same  Baconian  simile  occurs  almost  word  for  word  in  Shakespeare's 
Coriolanus  (Act  I,  sc.  iii. ) :  '*  I  saw  him  run  after  a  gilded  butterfly ;  and 
when  he  caught  it,  he  let  it  go  again  ;  and  after  it  again  ;  and  over  and  over 
he  comes  and  up  again." 


242  THE  SONNETS 

Our  poet  uses  this  simile  for  the  Dark  Lady's  benefit,  and 
tells  her  : 

"  So  run'st  thou  after  that  which  flies  from  thee." 

This  fugitive  was  William  Herbert  according  to  our  theory 
of  the  Will  Sonnets,  and  possibly  at  first  this  youthful 
courtier  was  rather  shy  of  the  Dark  Lady  as  being  too 
forward  for  his  delicate  and  sensitive  nature. 

I  have  quoted  in  full,  elsewhere  in  this  volume  (p.  156), 
a  sonnet  written  by  this  same  William  Herbert  to  some 
unknown  tempter  of  the  softer  sex,  who  had  tried  to  over- 
come his  bashfulness  by  a  very  liberal  display  of  her 
charms.  That  sonnet  shows  plainly  that  young  Herbert 
could  be  very  shy  and  reserved  if  he  suspected  any- 
thing wrong.  What  if  the  unknown  tempter  was  Mary 
Fitton  ? 

Though  at  first,  then,  it  appears  that  the  lady  could 
not  succeed  either  in  catching  her  bird  or  in  putting  a 
little  salt  on  his  tail,  yet  afterwards,  as  we  know,  she 
was  more  successful,  and  got  both  herself  and  her  loved 
one  into  great  trouble  through  it.  This  appears  in 
Sonnet  xli.,  one  of  the  few  Sonnets  that  have  got  dis- 
placed ;  we  read  there  : 

"  Gentle  thou  art,  and  therefore  to  be  won  ; 
Beauteous  thou  art,  therefore  to  be  assailed  ; 
And  when  a  woman  woos,  what  woman's  son 
Will  sourly  leave  her  till  she  have  prevailed  ? " 

The  word  "  sourly  "  here  fits  in  well  with  the  "  sullen 
eyes  "  of  Herbert's  sonnet,  and  the  same  lady  seems  to 
be  meant  in  both  cases.     C/.  also  Sonnet  cxliv.,  line  8  : 

"  Wooing  his  purity  with  her  foul  pride." 

This  Sonnet  cxliii.  seems  both  by  its  position  and 
contents  to  belong  plainly  enough  to  the  Will  Herbert 
series.  But  a  German  commentator  will  have  it  that 
the  "  feathered  creature  "  was  a  hen,  i.e.  a  Hen  which, 
he  says,  is  short  for  Henry,  and  that  Henry,  Earl  of 
Southampton,  is  the  man  meant  here,  and  he  proposes 
an  emendation  for  the  last  two  lines  of  the  Sonnet,  which 


THESE   GERMAN   CRITICS!  243 

are  at  first  sight  rather  against  his  theory.  However, 
his  emendation  puts  it  all  right,  for  instead  of : 

"  So  will  I  pray  that  thou  may'st  have  thy  Will 
If  thou  turn  back^  and  my  loud  crying  still," 

he  proposes  : 

"  So  will  I  pray  that  thou  may'st  have  thy  Hen 
If  thou  turn  back  and  my  loud  crying  pen." 

His  annotations  are  :  "  Hen,  short  for  Henry,  not  so 
usual  certainly  as  Harry  or  Hal,  but  not  unknown.  Cf. 
B.  Webster,  s.v.  Henry,  Muret,  &c.  For  '  pen '  cf. 
Lucrece,  681 : 

"  H^pens  her  piteous  clamours  on  her  head." 

What  are  we  coming  to  ?  These  Germans  seem  bent 
upon  beating  us  on  our  own  ground,  and  in  our  own 
language  too.  I  have  heard  that  some  of  the  members 
of  the  German  Shakespeare  Society  know  more  about 
the  Plays  than  any  English  critic,  or  any  Baconian 
either.  I  doubt  whether  the  famous  Bentley  in  his  most 
far-fetched  emendation  of  our  great  blind  poet  ever 
surpassed  the  above. 

This  next  Sonnet,  cxLiv.,  gives  us  more  hints  than 
the  majority  of  the  Sonnets.  We  get  a  limit  of  date,  for 
the  Passionate  Pilgrim,  which  contains  it  and  cxxxviii., 
was  published  in  1599.  Therefore  this  curious  love 
history  is  probably  shortly  before  that  date,  and  that  is 
rather  too  early  for  the  Herbert-Fitton  incident :  again, 
line  12, 

"  I  guess  one  angel  in  another's  hell," 

seems  to  show  that  the  author  was  well  acquainted  with 
the  unspeakable  tale  in  Boccaccio,  which  was  not,  I 
believe,  at  that  time  translated  into  English,  and  is 
generallv  a  little  oasis  of  French  in  our  English  versions 
still. 

And  the  last  line, 

"  Till  my  bad  angel  fire  my  good  one  out," 
points  very  plainly  to  a  pecuhar  theory  of  the  nature  of 
fire  which  Bacon  held.     He  supposed  that  fire  ex  tin- 


244  THE   SONNETS 

guished  fire.  In  his  History  of  Henry  VII.  he  describes 
how  Perkin  Warbeck  at  the  siege  of  Exeter  fired  one  of 
the  gates.  "  But  the  citizens  perceiving  the  danger 
blocked  up  the  gate  inside  with  faggots  and  other  fuel, 
which  they  likewise  set  on  fire,  and  so  repulsed  fire  with 
fire."  It  is  also  referred  to  in  his  Promus,  (Cf.  Two 
Gentlemen  of  Verona,  Act  II.  sc.  iv.,  ad  fin.) 

Throughout  this  second  series  addressed  to  the  Dark 
Lady  there  are  occasional  hidden  allusions  to  that 
"  infection  of  nature  "  in  the  writer  which  we  have  had 
cause  to  notice  elsewhere :  thus  our  author  speaks  of  his 

"  Tender  feeling  to  base  touches  prone  ; " — (CXLi.) 

and  again  : 

"  Love  is  my  sin,  and  thy  dear  virtue  hate, 
Hate  of  my  sin,  grounded  on  sinful  loving  ;" — (cxui.) 

again  : 

"  O,  though  I  love  what  others  do  abhor, 
With  others  thou  should'st  not  abhor  my  state  ; " — (CL.) 

again  : 

"  Love  is  too  young  to  know  what  conscience  is  ; "  "* — (CLI.) 

again  : 

"  My  soul  doth  tell  my  body  that  he  may 
Triumph  in  love  ;  flesh  stays  no  further  reason, 
But  rising  at  thy  name,  doth  point  out  thee 
As  his  triumphant  prize.     Proud  of  this  pride, 
He  is  contented  thy  poor  drudge  to  be, 
To  stand  in  thy  affairs,  fall  by  thy  side. 

No  want  of  conscience  hold  it  that  I  call 

Her  "love "  for  whose  dear  love  I  rise  and  fall." — (CLi.) 

This  is  the  Sonnet  which  is  more  unworthy  of  Bacon, 
morally  speaking,  than  any  other  in  the  whole  collection. 
It  must  be  construed  I  am  afraid  sensu  obscceno,  and  is  so 
bad  that  many  Shakespearians  have  thought  the  divine 
William  could  never  have  written  such  a  Sonnet  about 
himself,  not  even  if  he  had  only  just  left  the  house  where 

*  Cf.  "chevril  conscience"  in  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  Act  L  sc,  i. :  "  It 
shall  be  in  the  power  of  thy  chevril  conscience  to  do  right  or  wrong  at  thy 
pleasure,  my  pretty  Alcibiades,"  I  have  elsewhere  supposed  this  aimed  at 
Bacon,  or  Cheverell  the  lawyer. 


A   DOUBTFUL   SONNET  245 

William  the  Conqueror  showed  he  was  before  Richard  III. 
They  say  he  wrote  it  for  some  one  else,  or  they  say  that 
the  indiscreet  and  lascivious  Herbert  wrote  it,  and  that 
it  got  mixed  up  with  Shakespeare's  other  Sonnets,  and  so 
was  delivered  to  Thomas  Thorpe,  the  printer,  by  Mr. 
W.  H.  the  "  only  begetter."  They  will  not  have  it  that 
their  supreme  Swan  of  Avon  should  thus  foul  his  own  nest. 
"Is  it  not  most  damnable  in  us,"  says  one  of  his  own 
characters,  "  to  be  trumpeters  of  our  unlawful  intents  ?  " 
Is  it  to  be  credited,  they  ask,  that  Shakespeare  would  not 
feel  and  act  up  to  the  level  of  that  thought  in  such  a 
matter  of  personal  import  as  this  ?  "  The  purest  treasure 
mortal  times  afford  is  spotless  reputation,"  says  Mowbray. 
"  Good  name  in  man  and  woman,  dear  my  lord,  is  the 
immediate  jewel  of  their  souls,"  says  lago.  "  I  have 
offended  reputation,"  exclaims  Antony,  "  a  most  un- 
noble  swerving."  *  They  cannot  think  it  possible  that  a 
man  who  cared  so  little  about  gathering  up  his  best  works 
would  have  been  party  to  the  careful  treasuring  up  of 
his  worst — especially  a  man  "  who  was  so  full  of  self- 
respect,  domestic  prudence,  practical  sagacity,  wise  re- 
serve, and  canny  discreetness  as  was  our  Shakespeare." 

I  confess  such  arguments  do  not  much  impress 
me ;  they  seem  rather  out-of-date.  Moreover,  I  do  not 
believe  that  our  author,  whoever  he  was,  trumpeted 
his  own  infamy  at  all.  Some  scrivener's  apprentice 
stole  the  scrip — that  seems  far  more  feasible,  and  in  that 
case  such  arguments  fall  to  the  ground.  And  Bacon's 
scrip  seems  far  more  likely  to  be  lying  about  in 
reach  of  a  publisher's  pirate  than  Herbert's  or  Shake- 
speare's, for  one  had  a  scriptorium  and  ready  "  pens  " 
or  penmen,  and  would  write  to  his  brother  Anthony  for 
something  fresh  to  copy  so  that  the  pens  might  not  be 
idle.  But  the  strongest  imagination  has  failed  to  con- 
ceive Shakespeare's  scriptorium  or  Shakespeare  himself 
dashing  off  a  long  double  letter  to  a  learned  foreign 
correspondent. 

But  let  us  just  glance  at  this  Sonnet  that  every  one 

*  Cf.  Massey,  Sonnets,  1st  edit.,  p.  434. 


246  THE   SONNETS 

wishes  to  be  quit  of.  It  certainly  seems  to  point  to  the 
author  misconducting  himself  in  some  way  with  a  lady  of 
good  rank  or  quality,  and  that  her  name  might  be  Fitton, 
i.e.  according  to  the  punning  customs  of  the  time — "  Fit 
one."  The  author's  love-passion  rose  at  her  name,  for  he 
construed  it  as  if  she  were  "  the  Fit  one  "  for  him.  He 
was  not  the  only  one  who  thus  played  on  the  name.  On 
a  monument  of  the  Fitton  family  at  Gawsworth  in 
Cheshire,  erected  by  Mary  Fitton's  sister-in-law,  we  are 
told  of  some  members  of  the  family  who  were 
"  Fittons  to  weare  a  heavenly  Diadem." 

In  a  former  Sonnet,  cxix.,  I  have  noticed  a  possible 
parallel  allusion,  where  the  author's  eyes  are  said  to  have 
"  been  fitted  out  of  their  spheres  "  by  his  madding  fever 
of  love.     And  in  Cymheline  we  find  this  (Act  IV.  sc.  i.) 
"  For  'tis  said  a  woman's  fitness  comes  by  fits.' 

So  there  is  a  prima  facie  probability  that  Mistress  Fitton 
is  the  "  prize  "  of  which  the  sonneteer  was  so  proud. 
But  if  proud  it  was  only  for  a  moment,  and  in  this  Sonnet 
only  where  the  flesh  triumphs  and  conscience  is  put  to 
sleep.  In  the  next  Sonnet  and  in  many  others,  especially 
£xxxvii.,  he  admits  his  blindness  and  folly  in  being 
attracted  to  such  a  wanton  and  common  harlot  as  the 
"  worser  spirit "  which  did  "  suggest "  or  tempt  him 
really  was.  "  She  was,"  he  says,  "  a  woman  colour'd  ill," 
and  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  this  means  she  was  of  a 
swarthy  or  dark  complexion,  or  of  an  unhealthy  com- 
plexion. I  rather  think  it  was  her  moral  qualities  that 
were  aimed  at,  and  I  am  reminded  of  Bacon's  Essays  on 
the  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil.  There  is  also  a  very 
technical  and  legal  sense  of  the  word  colour  which  we 
meet  in  Lucrece  : 

"  Why  hunt  I  then  for  colour  or  excuse  ? " 

and  in  many  other  passages  of  the  Shakespeare  works. 
All  these  point  to  Bacon  rather  than  Shakespeare. 

And  while  just  now  on  the  subject  of  the  "  woman 
colour'd  ill,"  I  might  refer  to  the  other  one  of  those — 

"  Two  loves  I  have  of  comfort  and  despair  "— 


WALNUT-COLOURED   HAIR  247 

I  mean  "  the  better  angel "  or  *'  the  man  right  fair." 
Shakespearians  are  divided,  of  course,  as  to  who  he  is. 
But  as  he  seems  also  to  have  misconducted  himself  with 
the  wanton  lady  of  the  later  Sonnets,  and  to  have 

"  Anchor'd  in  the  bay  where  all  men  ride," 

so  if  Fitton  is  the  right  name  here  for  the  lady,  then 
Pembroke  will  be  the  "  man  right  fair."  But  Mr.  Sidney 
Lee  will  have  him  to  be  Southampton  throughout. 

Seeing  how  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  changes  his  views  and 
opinions  about  the  Mr.  W.  H.  of  the  Sonnets,  and  how 
confident  he  always  is — he  certainly  does  not  beget  the  con- 
fidence in  him  which  his  abilities  and  knowledge  deserve. 
Mr.  S.  Butler  has  a  sly  hit  at  him  at  p.  66  of  his  Shake- 
speare's Sonnets.  Mr.  Lee  had  been  discussing  the  colour  of 
Southampton's  hair,  and  as  he  took  Southampton  to  be 
the  "  man  right  fair  "  of  this  famous  Sonnet,  cxLiv.  (The 
Two  Loves),  he  had  to  make  this  hair  as  light  as  possible 
in  the  pictures  and  portraits  of  the  Earl  that  remain. 
Dealing  with  one  such  picture  he  says,  "  The  colour  of 
the  hair  in  Southampton's  portrait  is  walnut,  but  is 
darker  now  than  when  the  picture  was  painted."  Mr. 
Butler  remarks  on  this  as  follows  :  "  Judging  from  the 
illustration  given  (in  Mr.  Lee's  published  book),  when  he 
says  that  the  hair  is  walnut  in  colour,  he  must  mean 
'  pickled  walnut,'  for  a  pickled  walnut  really  is  as  black 
as  the  hair  in  the  illustration  ;  but  how  pickled  walnut 
can  be  called  '  bright  auburn  '  is  one  of  those  puzzles  the 
frequent  recurrence  of  which  detracts  so  seriously  from 
the  value  of  Mr.  Lee's  in  many  respects  most  interesting 
and  useful  work."  * 

But  here  I  must  bring  m}^  cursory  view  of  the  Sonnets 
to  an  end.  The  concluding  eight  (Sonnets  cxlv.-clii.) 
all  deal  with  the  author's  questionings  and  meditations 
concerning  the  conflict  in  him  between  Reason  and 
Conscience  on  the  one  side  and  Physical  Love  or  Lust 
on  the  other.  He  seems  to  have  fallen,  as  far  as  we 
can    reasonably    interpret    the    language    used.     When 

*  S.  Butler,  Sonneis,  p.  66. 


248  THE   SONNETS 

the  sportive  blood  was  hot  in  the  veins,  then  he  found 
that 

"  Love  is  too  young  to  know  what  conscience  is," 

and  he  seems  to  confess  that  he  did  "  betray "  his 
"  nobler  part "  to  his  "  gross  body's  treason  "  (Sonnet 
CLi.).  He  was  not  alone  in  this — it  is  a  frequent  ex- 
perience with  the  frail  children  of  men — and  many  far 
greater  saints  than  Francis  Bacon,  and  men  too  whose 
intellects,  like  his,  were  of  the  lofty  and  philosophic 
order,  men  like  St.  Paul  and  Augustine,  who  delighted 
in  the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man,  but  failed  not  to 
find  another  law  in  their  members  warring  against  the 
law  of  their  mind,  and  bringing  them  into  captivity  to 
the  law  of  sin  in  their  members.* 

The  autobiographical  Sonnets  end  rather  abruptly 
with  No.  CLii.,  where  the  author  accuses  himself  of  per- 
jured vows  as  well  as  the  lady,  and  says  : 

"  I  am  perjur'd  most ; 
For  all  my  vows  are  oaths  but  to  misuse  thee." 

I  don't  quite  understand  what  he  means  by  this.  Tyler 
elucidates  the  passage  thus  :  "  *  To  misuse  thee,'  i.e.  To 
treat  you  in  a  manner  entirely  different  from  that  in 
which  you  ought  to  be  treated."  Exactly  so  ;  but  one 
would  like  a  little  more  light. 

The  last  two  Sonnets  do  not  belong  to  the  series  at 
all,  and  are  alternative  renderings  of  a  poem  from  the 
Greek  Anthology.  They  have  been  referred  to  elsewhere 
as  showing  scholarship  beyond  the  Stratford  player's 
reach.  They  are  the  contrasted  attempts  of  a  scholar's 
idle  moments.  They  are,  I  believe,  not  so  much  original 
renderings,  as  improvements  on  other  men's  labours  (more 
Baconico).  For  I  find  there  are  earlier  attempts  in 
English  several  years  previously,  and  there  is  a  good 
sonnet  by  Giles  Fletcher,  LL.D.,  in  his  Licia  of  1593 
(Sonnet  xxvii.),  founded  on  the  same  epigram.  This 
would  be  almost  contemporary  work. 

And  here  I  will  make  a  friendly  appeal  to  Mr.  Sidney 

*  See  also  William  Huntington's  Posthumous  Letters,  iii,  196,  &c.  (Lend., 
1815). 


AN   APPEAL  249 

Lee.  I  take  it  that  he  knows  as  much  about  Shakespeare's 
times  and  the  surroundings  of  the  Plays  as  any  man 
living.  He  has  made  a  complete  change  of  front  once  in 
his  Shakespearian  studies,  and  I  now  ask  him  to  make 
another  even  more  important  than  the  last.  I  ask  him 
to  admit  that  Bacon,  not  Shakespeare,  wrote  the  Poems 
and  Sonnets,  and  for  the  moment  I  leave  the  Plays  out 
of  the  question  altogether.  I  do  not  think  that  any 
feeling  of  shame  or  vexation  need  oppress  him  for  a 
moment,  if  he  would  remember,  as  I  do,  what  Cardinal 
Newman  often  said  in  his  fine  sermons  at  Oxford,  before 
he  himself  made  his  great  change  of  front  and  position. 
His  view  was  that  in  matters  of  mere  opinion  to  have 
changed  frequently  was  a  true  sign  of  vitality — and 
never  to  change  in  any  circumstances  a  sure  sign  of 
stagnation.  May  Mr.  Lee's  vitality  increase  as  he  pro- 
ceeds, and  may  his  next  criticism  show  the  true  sign  of  it. 
Having  thus  cursorily  surveyed  the  Sonnets  on  the 
Baconian  assumption  of  authorship,  I  would  state  as  a 
general  remark  that  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  some 
of  them  were  written  by  Bacon  for  Southampton  or 
Herbert  to  send  to  their  lady-loves.  It  was  not  at  all 
an  unheard-of  thing  for  a  lover  to  get  a  poet  to  write 
a  sonnet  for  him  in  the  Elizabethan  days.  Thurio, 
in  the  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  goes  into  the  city  to  seek 
a  gentleman  who  shall  set  a  sonnet  to  music  for  the 
purpose  of  paying  court  to  Sylvia.  Gascoigne,  who  died 
in  1577,  t^lls  us  he  had  been  engaged  to  write  for  others 
in  the  same  fashion.  The  author  of  the  Forest  of  Fancy 
(1579)  informs  us  that  many  of  the  poems  were  written 
for  "  persons  who  had  occasion  to  crave  his  help  in  that 
behalf,"  and  there  are  other  instances  as  well.  Now  we 
know  that  Bacon  had  a  confirmed  habit  of  writing  letters 
for  other  people  and  supplying  "  devices  "  for  Essex  and 
such  like  literary  tricks,  and  there  is  good  contemporary 
evidence  by  Marston  (1598)  and  others  that  certain  aristo- 
crats, apparently  Essex  and  Southampton,  had  the  repute 
of  getting  their  literary  work  composed  for  them  by 
another  pen.    We  are  told  of  court  noblemen  who  were 


2SO 


THE   SONNETS 


but  brokers  "of  another's  wit"  who  did  "but  champ 
that  which  another  chewed,"  and  this  specially  with 
regard  to  "  fine  set  speeches  "  and  "  sonnetting  "  (Marston, 
Sat.  I.  42-44). 

All  these  things  add  to  the  probability  that  some  of 
the  Sonnets  were  written  by  Bacon  for  some  one  else. 
If  proved  it  would  have  little  effect  one  way  or  the  other 
on  the  question  of  authorship,  but  it  would  tend  to  re- 
lieve Bacon  from  the  inference  that  he  had  a  mistress  of 
abandoned  character.  Of  course  the  most  inexcusable 
of  all  the  Sonnets,  morally  speaking,  is  Sonnet  CLI., 

"  Love  is  too  young  to  know  what  conscience  is," 

and  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  Francis  Bacon  is  the 
author  of  such  a  Sonnet.  It  is  utterly  opposed  to 
Sonnet  cxli.,  the  tendency  and  spirit  quite  diverse. 
There  seems  also  a  hidden  jesting  obscenity  in  the  last 
lines.  It  is  thought  by  some  critics  that  it  is  "one  of 
Herbert's  or  Southampton's  productions  which  by  chance 
got  mixed  with  the  others."  I  wish  it  could  be  proved  to 
be  so.  Ben  Jonson's  first  and  early  opinion  about  Bacon 
tends  to  establish  the  Sonnet  as  representing  Bacon's 
conscience  fairly  accurately  :  "It  shall  be  in  the  power 
of  thy  chevril  conscience  to  do  right  or  wrong  at  thy 
pleasure,  my  pretty  Alcibiades "  (Poetaster,  I.  i).  But 
Ben  changed  this  view  when  he  knew  the  man  personally, 
and  Bacon's  later  life  bore  out  Jonson's  later  view. 


CHAPTER   XII 

OF  THE  PARALLELISMS  AND  IDENTITIES  BETWEEN  THE 
PLAYS  OF  SHAKESPEARE  AND  THE  ACKNOWLEDGED 
WORKS   OF  BACON 

These  are  as  plentiful  as  Falstaff' s  blackberries,  and  I 
feel  somewhat  as  the  humorous  knight  felt  when  asked 
for  his  reasons :  "  Give  you  a  parallel  on  compulsion  ? 
No.  I  will  give  no  one  a  parallel  on  compulsion,  nor  yet 
of  my  own  free  will ;  nor  an  identity  either."  They  can 
be  found  easily  enough.  They  grow  on  every  bush  of  the 
Baconian  nursery  garden,  and  have  been  growing  there 
for  nearly  forty  years.  They  are  a  fruit  free  to  all  passers- 
by,  and  the  nurserymen  who  look  after  the  gardens  say 
with  one  voice,  "  Taste  and  eat."  But  the  men  who 
have  a  reputation  for  being  good  judges  of  fruit,  say  they 
are  not  worth  the  ground  they  take  up. 

Let  the  reader,  I  say,  please  himself  as  to  trying  this 
singular  garden  ;  there  are  some  odd  bushes  in  it,  and  I 
hear  that  some  of  the  out-of-the-way  corners  have  been 
appropriated  by  strange  possessors.  Some  say  that  at 
one  end  there  is  a  "  Paradise  of  Fools,"  and  at  another 
corner  an  odd  gathering  of  men  and  women  who,  when 
they  are  reckoned  up,  are  found  to  be  mere  ciphers.  Let 
people  find  their  parallelisms  and  identities  themselves, 
and  let  them  be  sure  of  their  own  identity  to  begin  with. 

I  know  fairly  well  what  reward  the  world  gives  to  such 
explorers,  and  has  given  for  forty  years,  and  so  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  play  second  Kettle  to  Mrs.  Pott.  Neither 
do  I  wish  to  offer  "  oblations  "  to  be  received  by  critics 
with  language  that  would  hardly  be  tolerated  in  a  tap- 
room. So  I  therefore  follow  the  example  of  the  famous 
chapter  "  On  Snakes  in  Ireland  "  (or  was  it  Iceland  ?), 


252  NO   BUSINESS    DONE 

and  say  compendiously  of  this  wonderful  fruit  from  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  : 

"  No  business  done  in  this  department 
during  the  present  important  alterations."*^ 

And,  indeed,  what  inducement  can  there  be  to  bring  such 
things  before  the  eyes  of  people  who  would  only  see  a 
wilderness  full  of  Reeds  shaken  by  the  wind,  or  a  desert 
of  Potsherds  scattered  about  the  ground  in  sufficient 
numbers  to  make  a  second  Monte  Testaccio. 

It  is  the  immense  number  of  those  scattered  identities 
and  their  want  of  arrangement  that  forms  their  element 
of  weakness,  just  as  a  large  undisciplined  rabble  with  a 
horde  of  camp-followers  is  weaker  in  reality  than  a  small 
determined  band  of  tried  soldiers.  Perhaps,  however, 
there  may  be  a  smooth  stone  or  two  in  my  small 
wallet  which  might  sink  into  the  forehead  of  some 
Goliath  among  the  critical  Philistines  ;  but  I  shall  not 
sling  them.  Time  works  wonders,  and  I  shall  leave  this 
desert  of  broken  reeds  and  crockery  to  old  Father 
Chronos,  in  full  confidence  that  he  will  make  it  ere  long 
"  blossom  as  the  rose,"  and  become  a  Garden  of  Pleasure 
to  all  lovers  of  English  literature. 

Besides  this,  these  identities  and  parallelisms,  whether 
good  or  bad,  are  so  easily  demolished  ;  and  if  a  rampant 
Shakespearian  critic  has  a  thousand  or  two  of  these 
Baconian  cattle  to  flesh  his  eager  sword  with,  and  can 
choose  his  victims — why  then,  of  course,  down  they  go 
like  sheep  before  Ajax,  and  he  stalks  through  the  field  of 
slaughter  triumphant,  and  more  "  cocksure  "  than  ever. 
No  ;  this  chapter  shall  contain  no  parallels.  I  am  not 
producing  any  just  now. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS,    OR  WAS   HE   INCLINED   TO 
BE  A  MISOGYNIST  ? 

On  the  Bacon  theory  of  the  Sonnets  we  are  met  with  this 
serious  objection — "  History  contains  no  record  of  Bacon 
keeping  a  mistress."  Of  course  it  is  open  to  answer — 
"  Neither  does  history  contain  any  record  that  Shake- 
speare kept  a  mistress — and  yet  it  has  never  prevented 
people,  for  more  than  two  hundred  years,  beheving  that 
he  wrote  the  Sonnets  autobiographically.  But  it  is  a 
strong  and  serious  objection  nevertheless,  and  raises  an 
a  priori  improbability,  when  we  are  asked  to  believe  that 
Mary  Fitton  was  Bacon's  mistress.  There  is  capital 
evidence  for  Bacon  having  the  chance  of  knowing  her 
intimately  as  the  friend  of  his  cousins  the  Russells,  who 
were  maids  of  honour  with  her  and  took  their  shares  in 
the  court  festivities  and  masques  ;  and  it  is  pretty  certain 
that  he  would  know  her  as  an  acquaintance  before  young 
Herbert  would  have  a  chance  to  do  so.  For  Mary  Fitton 
came  to  Court  in  1597,  and  Herbert  was  not  permanently 
in  town  till  1598.  And  it  is  quite  certain  that  Mary 
Fitton  was  much  more  likely  to  be  Bacon's  mistress  than 
to  demean  herself  so  far  as  to  become  mistress  to  a  man 
of  Shakespeare's  position.  Both  suppositions  seem  im- 
probable a  priori  for  a  maid  of  honour  in  high  esteem 
with  the  Queen,  but  the  second  supposition,  which  is 
the  accepted  one  by  so  many  critics,  seems  absolutely 
out  of  court. 

There  is  a  way  out  of  our  difficulty,  and  it  is  this. 
I  have  sometimes  thought  that  some  of  the  Sonnets  which 
seem  to  connect  their  author  with  the  Dark  Lady  or  Mary 
Fitton,  may  have  been  written  hy  Bacon  for  Pembroke. 

This  supposition  has  an  air  of  a  priori  probability  to 

253 


254  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

commend  it,  for  Bacon  was  an  adept  at  this  feigned 
composition  for  others,  and  it  has  the  extra  advantage 
of  quite  doing  away  with  the  stumbhng-block  that 
Mistress  Fitton  was  Bacon's  mistress.  It  leaves  her  as 
Pembroke's  mistress,  but  that  is  a  historical  fact  well 
authenticated  ;  and  it  leaves  us  free  to  reject  a  guilty 
liaison  between  Bacon  and  Mary,  of  which  history  has 
left  no  scrap  of  evidence  or  suggestion. 

I  wish  I  could  accept  this  much  easier  theory,  but 
the  Sonnets  do  not  seem  to  bear  out  this  occasional 
feigned  impersonation.  The  author  (whether  Bacon  or 
Shakespeare)  seems  undoubtedly  to  have  had  "  two 
loves  " — the  one  "  a  man  right  faire,"  the  other  "  a 
woman  colour'd  ill "  ;  and  even  if  Bacon  got  tired  of 
the  "  Dark  Lady  "  and  of 

"  The  expence  of  spirit  in  a  waste  of  shame," 

and  then  became  obsequious  enough  to  pander  to  his 
friend's  passion  and  write  a  Sonnet  or  two  for  his  friend 
to  send  to  the  lady,  we  have  still  the  initial  difficulty  of 
the  loves  of  Bacon  and  Mary  Fitton. 

The  love  of  the  author  of  the  Sonnets  for  the  "  Dark 
Lady  "  was  certainly  of  a  peculiar  kind,  and  is  expressed 
in  a  manner  perfectly  unique — quite  contrary  to  the 
pretty  way  of  the  lovelorn  sonneteers  of  that  age — a  good 
proof  that  the  "  Dark  Lady  "  was  not  a  mere  abstraction 
of  the  poet's  mind,  but  a  very  real  and  uncommon  person- 
ality. "  These  Sonnets  to  the  '  Dark  Lady '  are  written 
on  a  burning  theme,  but  they  could  not  possibly  woo  the 
woman.  Persons  who  serenade  a  lady  do  not  usually 
approach  her  windows  with  a  band  of  vulgar  '  rough 
music'  They  do  not  remind  her  that  she  has  broken 
her  marriage-vows,  decry  her  charms,  ask  her  not  to  play 
the  wolf  in  leading  lambs  astray,  tell  her  that  her  breath 
'  reeks,'  and  her  breasts  are  black,  her  face  is  foul,  and, 
to  sum  up,  tell  her  she  is  as  dark  as  night  and  as  black 
as  hell,  with  a  view  of  gaining  admission."  So  says 
Massey*  very  truly,  and  adds  much  more  to  the  same 

*  Supplemental  Chapter,  edit.  1872,  p.  7. 


THE   IDEAL   OF   THE   SONNETS  255 

purpose  ;  but,  ingenious  as  he  so  often  is,  he  cannot 
explain  why  Shakespeare  was  such  an  extraordinary 
lover  (for  Massey  is  a  staunch  Shakespearian  and  laughs 
Bacon  to  scorn),  or  yet  why  Shakespeare  should  write 
feigned  Sonnets  for  Pembroke  and  Southampton  to  Lady 
Rich,  who  was  Massey's  particular  "  Dark  Lady,"  and 
who  was  old  enough  to  be  Pembroke's  mother. 

In  fact,  Massey  completely  fails  to  fit  Shakespeare 
to  the  circumstances  here,  nor  do  I  see  how  any  of  the 
orthodox  believers  can  do  any  better. 

But  there  is  a  famous  man  who  fits  the  unusual  cir- 
cumstances admirably,  and  that  is  old  Aubrey's  TratSepao-r?;?, 
Bacon.  For  that  gifted  genius  was  to  a  certain  extent, 
in  spite  of  his  impassioned  and  lofty  presentation  of  the 
tender  passion  in  the  play  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  else- 
where, at  bottom  a  bit  of  a  misogynist,  which  I  have 
hinted  at  before  as  suggested  by  many  depreciatory 
remarks  about  the  love  of  women  met  with  in  the  Sonnets 
and  Plays,  as  well  as  in  the  acknowledged  Essays  of 
Francis  Bacon.  It  may  have  come  about  in  this  way  ; 
being  an  ardent  lover  of  pure  and  beautiful  youths,  he 
may  not  have  felt  so  much  attracted  by  the  other  sex. 
We  must  always  remember  that  the  Ideal  of  the  Sonnets, 
the  Master-Mistress  of  the  poet's  passion,  is  a  young  man, 
with  all  the  grace  and  tenderness,  the  changing  hues  and 
blushes  of  a  bashful  maiden.  And  we  should  always 
couple  this  fact  with  the  strange  love-ideals  we  meet  with 
in  so  many  of  the  earlier  Plays — I  mean  the  Rosalinds, 
the  Julias,  and  the  other  "  male  impersonators  " — grace- 
ful, slender  girls  in  man's  attire,  with  the  doublet,  hose, 
and  other  accessories  of  a  courtly  youth  or  pretty  page.* 

But  although  this  be  so,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the 
earlier  plays  of  Shakespeare  do  certainly  dwell  more  than 
is  usual  on  certain  changes  of  sexual  appearance  in  young 
lads  and  young  girls.     After  Aubrey's  revelation  we  are 

*  For  the  "other  accessories"  I  can  only  refer  the  curious  reader  to 
Lucetta's  words  to  Julia  in  77ie  Two  Gentlemen  of  Vej'ona  (Act  II.  vii.  53). 
Such  matters  were  alluded  to  in  contemporary  Elizabethan  literature  without 
much  scruple  or  offence,  but  it  is  not  so  nowadays. 


256  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

naturally  led  by  such  incidents  of  the  Plays  to  look  in 
the  direction  of  Bacon  and  Mary  Fitton  rather  than 
towards  Will  Shakespeare  and  Ann  Hathaway. 

But  after  all,  these  suggestive  incidents  may  be  harm- 
less enough,  and  indeed  one  of  the  Sonnets,  the  famous 
"  Master-Mistress  "  one  (xx.),  inclines  us  strongly  to  take 
the  more  lenient  view.  I  will  quote  it  here,  so  that  the 
reader  may  judge  : 

"  A  woman's  face  with  Nature's  owne  hand  painted, 
Haste  thou,  the  Master  Mistris  of  my  passion, 
A  woman's  gentle  hart  but  not  acquainted 
With  shifting  change  as  is  false  women's  fashion, 
An  eye  more  bright  then  theirs,  lesse  false  in  rowling  : 
Gilding  the  object  where-upon  it  gazeth, 
A  man  in  hew  all  Hews  in  his  controwling. 
Which  steales  men's  eyes  and  women's  souls  amaseth, 
And  for  a  woman  wert  thou  first  created, 
Till  Nature  as  she  wrought  thee  fell  a  dotinge, 
And  by  addition  me  of  thee  defeated, 
By  adding  one  thing  to  my  purpose  nothing. 

But  since  she  prickt  thee  out  for  women^s  pleasure^ 
Mine  be  thy  love  and  thy  loves  use  their  treasure." 

The  two  lines  which  I  have  put  in  italics  are  the  more 
important  ones  with  reference  to  what  we  are  now  con- 
sidering. I  think  they  are  witnesses  in  the  writer's  favour, 
and  exclude  the  grosser  view.  I  think  also  that  there  is 
a  play  upon  words  in  the  use  of  the  phrase  she  prickt 
thee  out  for  women's  pleasure,  and  that  it  is  distinctly  in 
Bacon's  manner.  He  had  the  defect,  which  even  his  friends 
admitted,  that  he  could  not  pass  by  a  jest,  if  opportunity 
offered.  Ben  Jonson,  while  praising  Bacon  after  his 
death,  could  not  forbear  a  reference  to  this,  and  tells  us 
"  his  (i.e.  Bacon's)  language  {when  he  could  spare  a  jest) 
was  nobly  censorious."  * 

Indeed  the  Sonnet,  taken  as  a  whole,  seems  to  show 
pretty  evidently  that  the  love  referred  to  in  it  was 
Platonical  in  the  best  sense  of  that  word,  and  not  after 
the  unnatural  or  "  wild  "  manner  which  we  occasionally 

*  Ben  Jonson's  Works,  edit.  Gifford,  p.  749. 


PARALLEL   CASES  257 

hear  of  even  in  these  refined  and  civiHsed  days.  It 
may  have  been  "  more  Greek  than  EngHsh,"  but  this 
may  be  attributed  to  the  refined  Platonism  of  Itahan 
Renaissance  culture,  with  which  Bacon  would  be  well 
acquainted. 

We  would  accept  any  reasonable  explanation  rather 
than  the  gross  charge  which  some  might  be  inclined  to 
draw  from  old  Aubrey's  word.  The  poet  Gray  and  his 
Swiss  friend  Bonstetten  have  been  adduced  as  forming  a 
strictly  parallel  case.*  And  so  has  Michael  Angelo,  who 
had  a  strong  passion  for  a  youthful  friend. t 

Bonstetten  was  a  Swiss  youth  of  quahty,  who  went 
to  Cambridge  with  an  introduction  to  Gray  from  his  friend 
Norton  NichoUs ;  and  in  Gray's  letters  both  to  NichoUs 
and  to  Bonstetten  himself  there  are  close  parallels  to  the 
feelings  so  beautifully  phrased  in  the  Sonnets — especially 
as  to  the  pangs  of  absence  :  "  Alas !  how  do  I  every 
moment  feel  the  truth  of  what  I  have  somewhere 
read  :  *  Ce  n'est  pas  le  voir,  que  de  s'en  souvenir ' ; 
and  yet  that  remembrance  is  the  only  satisfaction  I 
have  left.  My  life  now  is  but  a  conversation  with 
your  shadow,"  &c.  And  another  letter  warns  the  youth 
against  the  vices  to  which  his  youth  and  good  looks, 
and  the  example  of  his  own  class,  leave  him  peculiarly 
exposed. 

But  the  case  of  Michael  Angelo  is  even  stronger. 

"  Michael  Angelo's  relation  to  Messer  Tommaso  de'  Cavalieri 
presents  the  most  interesting  parallel  to  the  attitude  which 
Shakespeare  adopted  towards  William  Herbert.  We  find  the 
same  expressions  of  passionate  love  from  the  older  to  the  younger 
man;  but  here  it  is  still  more  unquestionably  certain  that  we 
have  not  to  do  with  mere  poetical  figures  of  speech,  since  the 
letters  are  not  a  whit  less  ardent  and  enthusiastic  than  the 
Sonnets.  The  expressions  in  the  Sonnets  are  sometimes  so 
warm  that  Michael  Angelo's  nephew,  in   his  edition  of  them, 

*  The  Rev.  Professor  Beeching  on  the  Sonnets  :    Cornhill  Magazine  for 
Feb.  1902. 

t  G.  Brandes,  Shakespeare,  1898,  i.  343. 

R 


258  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

altered  the  word  Signiore  into  Stgnora,  and  these  poems,  like 
Shakespeare's,  were  for  some  time  supposed  to  have  been 
addressed  to  a  woman." 

I  have  given  barely  a  tithe  of  the  arguments  and 
letters  by  which  the  Rev.  Prof.  Beeching  and  George 
Brandes  illustrate  these  close  parallels.  I  think  they 
have  shown  good  cause  for  a  belief  in  the  innocent 
and  Platonic  character  of  the  warm  love  depicted  in 
the  Sonnets.  They  are  both  orthodox  Shakespearians, 
and  are  thinking  of  defending  the  character  of  the 
"  Swan  of  Avon."  I  am  thinking  of  a  very  different 
personage,  intellectually,  socially,  and,  I  should  cer- 
tainly add,  physically — but  I  hail  their  Platonic  parallels 
with  gratitude,  and  am  glad  to  have  Plato  on  my 
side.  Malo  err  are  cum  Platone  quam  cum  [aliis]  vera 
sentire. 

Bacon's  real  character  has  been  more  or  less  a  mystery 
to  most  of  his  biographers — a  mystery  that  we  cannot 
expect  to  be  ever  made  clear.  But  Mr.  Abbott,  who 
perhaps,  after  Mr.  Spedding,  has  bestowed  the  greatest 
thought  on  this  subject,  makes  a  general  remark  which  is 
worth  notice  in  connection  with  the  scandals  we  have 
been  considering.  He  says  :  "  All  men  lead  double  lives, 
a  private  and  a  public ;  but  if  we  may  believe  Bacon's 
own  account  about  himself  —  and  it  agrees  with  many 
casual  and  unpremeditated  indications  in  his  writings — 
he  was  a  man  in  whom  the  two  lives  were  to  an  extra- 
ordinary degree  separable."  This  is  a  wise  saying  and 
worthy  of  all  acceptation.  It  will  account  for  his  great 
intimacy  with  Perez  while  he  was  hard  at  work  in  the 
other  life  at  the  finest  passages  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  or 
whatever  other  immortal  drama  was  on  hand  at  the  time. 
It  would  also  account  for  any  possible  scandal  that  there 
might  have  been  connected  with  his  earlier  life  and  the 
Sonnets,  even  if  it  occurred  when  he  was  meditating 
the  Greatest  Birth  of  Time,  or  the  best  Policy  for  the 
Queen. 

After  the  storm  fell  upon  him  and  he  was  wrecked 
late  in  life,  the  double  life  becomes  less  apparent,  and 


BACON'S    ULTIMATE   VICTORY  259 

gradually  fades  away.     The  cleansing  fires  had  purged 
the  dross,  and  he  could  say  with  truth  then  : 

"  I  gaze  at  a  field  in  the  Past 
Where  I  sank  with  the  body  at  times  in  the  sloughs  of  a  low  desire. 
But  I  hear  no  yelp  of  the  beast,  and  the  Man  is  quiet  at  last 
As  he  stands  on  the  heights  of  his  life  with  a  glimpse  of  a  height  that 
is  higher."'*' 

We  get  Francis  Bacon's  later  "  glimpses "  in  his 
Prayers,  found  after  his  death,  in  that  translation  of  the 
few  Psalms  from  a  sick-bed,  and  also  in  his  religious 
"  Confession  of  the  Faith  "  that  was  in  him.  For  although 
this  last  was  composed  in  earlier  troubles  {1602  perhaps), 
it  was  never  annulled. 

After  all  that  has  been  said  for  and  against  this  most 
illustrious  Englishman  who  is,  I  hope  and  believe,  eventu- 
ally to  be  securely  enthroned  without  serious  opposition 
on  the  summit  of  Parnassus,  I  must  give  it  as  my  final 
opinion  that  he  was  of  a  nobler  nature  and  intellect  than 
the  world  has  given  him  credit  for.  He  has  been  most 
unjustly  maligned  in  Pope's  well-known  lines,  and  the 
words,  or  rather,  the  worst  word,  has  been  quoted  against 
Bacon  so  often,  that  some  of  the  mud  contained  therein 
has  been  bound  to  stick — when  flung,  as  it  must  be, 
against  a  man  unable  now  to  reply  or  excuse  himself. 
Dr.  Rawley,  his  friend,  chaplain,  literary  executor,  and 
biographer,  is  a  better  authority  for  Bacon's  character 
than  Pope,  that  crooked  little  "  note  of  interrogation," 
and  the  good  qualities  that  he  bears  witness  to  in  the 
moral  and  intellectual  life  of  the  great  Lord  Chancellor 
in  his  later  years  seem  to  bear  the  stamp  of  reasonable 
truth  and  impartial  justice.  If  Lady  Anne  had  good 
cause  to  complain  of  her  younger  son's  carelessness  for 
religion — or  for  the  puritanical  form  of  it  that  she  pro- 
fessed— if  that  same  younger  son  afterwards  passed 
through  a  dark  period  of  pessimistic  scepticism  very 
nearly  allied  to  absolute  Unbelief,  still  these  were  only 
"  murmurings  in  the  wilderness "   of  one  who  was  to 

*  Tennyson,  Demeter  and  other  Poems  (Lond.  1893),  p.  159. 


26o  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

reach  in  later  years  a  better  spirit  and  to  die  on  the 
Mount  in  the  felt  Presence  of  God  Himself.  It  was  a 
saying  of  his  that  "  a  little  philosophy  maketh  men  apt 
to  forget  God,  as  attributing  too  much  to  second  causes  ; 
but  deep  philosophy  bringeth  a  man  back  to  God  again  "  ; 
and  here  no  doubt  he  spoke  of  his  own  experience.  His 
chaplain  also  tells  us  that  "  he  was  able  to  render  a 
reason  of  the  hope  which  was  in  him,  which  that  writing 
of  his  of  the  Confession  of  Faith  doth  abundantly  testify." 
We  may  accept  this  high  testimony,  I  think,  as  well  as 
the  many  other  good  qualities  which  Dr.  Rawley  assigns 
to  his  friend  in  the  biography  which  was  published  about 
thirty  years  after  Bacon's  death,  but  had  been  compiled 
some  years  previously,  and  was  published  by  Rawley  in 
his  own  lifetime.  Many  people  bitterly  resent  the  "  de- 
throning of  Shakespeare  "  because  they  have,  from  tradi- 
tion and  fashion,  come  to  view  the  man  and  his  genius 
as  something  so  sublime  and  wellnigh  divine,  that  to 
speak  anything  derogatory  against  such  a  man  is  almost 
flat  blasphemy.  But  this  is  pure  idol-worship,  founded 
on  sentiment  rather  than  on  fact.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
and  evidence  we  may  safely  say  that  Francis  Bacon, 
with  all  his  faults,  was  a  man  of  a  higher,  nobler,  and 
diviner  nature  than  William  Shakespeare ;  and  that 
therefore  no  harm  is  done  to  the  moral  convictions  of 
any  one,  by  dethroning  the  smaller  man  and  placing  the 
grander  man  in  the  vacant  seat  on  the  summit  of  Par- 
nassus. 

There  seems  little  reason  to  doubt  that,  even  if  Francis 
Bacon  had  a  "  storm  and  stress "  period  and  also  a 
"  dark  "  period  in  his  earlier  years,  he  found  a  philosophic 
and  religious  calm  later  on.  His  "  Confession  of  Faith  " 
is  a  noble  one  indeed  ;  and  has  been  accepted  as  a  genuine 
and  conscientious  account  of  his  ultimate  convictions  by 
his  best  biographers.  It  is  far  too  little  known.  As 
Spedding  says  :  "If  any  one  wishes  to  read  a  summa 
theologicB  digested  into  seven  pages  of  the  finest  English 
of  the  days  when  its  tones  were  finest,  he  may  read  it 
here "  (vii.  215).     C.  de  Remusat  says  :    "On  ne^voit 


BACON'S   WILD   OATS  261 

nuUe  raison  de  supposer  que  cette  pi^ce,  qu'il  ne  publia 
pas,  ne  fut  point  I'expression  sincere  de  sa  conviction."  * 
A  high  ecclesiastical  authority,  viz.  Abbas  Jac.  Andr. 
Emery,  Congreg.  St.  Sulpicii  generalis  superior,  says  : 
*'  Cette  confession  met  dans  la  plus  parfaite  Evidence  la 
religion  de  Bacon,  elle  donne  encore  la  mesure  de  I'eleva- 
tion  de  son  g^nie,  elle  abonde  en  idees  veritablement 
sublimes  ;  et  ce  qui  est  encore  singulier  dans  cette  piece 
c'est  que  quoique  I'auteur  recut  dans  la  communion  de 
I'Eglise  protestante,  il  serait  difficile  d'y  trouver  quelque 
article  qui  ne  put  etre  avoue  par  un  theologien  de  I'Eglise 
Romaine." 

This  last  remark  from  the  famous  theological  school  of 
St.  Sulpice  agrees  wonderfully  with  a  similar  fact  that 
exists  in  connection  with  the  immortal  Shakespeare  Plays. 
No  one  seems  able  to  state  clearly  or  positively  whether 
the  author  of  these  Plays  was  a  Puritan  or  an  Anglican 
or  a  Catholic.  Both  in  the  Confession  of  Faith  and  in 
the  Plays,  the  infused  religious  element  is  so  lofty  and 
so  comprehensive  that  it  seems  to  include  both  the 
opposing  sections  of  the  Church,  as  they  then  were. 
Bacon  was  as  universal  a  genius  in  religion  as  in  other 
provinces  of  the  human  intellect. 

It  may  appear  to  some  that  these  sincere  religious 
convictions  of  Bacon's  later  days  quite  exclude  the  proba- 
bility of  his  having  a  mistress  or  a  scandal  in  his  younger 
days.  I  cannot  think  so.  I  do  not  see  why  Bacon  was 
not  as  likely  to  sow  his  wild  oats  as  a  Saint  Augustine 
and  many  another  man  who  afterwards  came  to  die  in 
the  odour  of  sanctity,  having  "witnessed  a  good  con- 
fession." I  do  not  think  that  Bacon,  as  a  young  man, 
separated  himself  from  his  coetaneans  as  did  "  the  Lady 
of  Christ's,"  in  certain  special  matters,  some  forty  years 
later.  It  was  an  allowed  saying  in  those  times  that 
"  nowadays  no  courtier  but  has  his  mistress,  no  captain 
but  has  his  cockatrice,  no  cuckold  but  has  his  horns,  and 
no  fool  but  has  his  feathers  "  ;  and  I  think  Bacon  fell  in 
with  the  conventions  of  the  age  for  a  courtier.     Surely 

*  Bacon,  Sa  Vie,  &c.,  Paris,  1858. 


262  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

noscitur  a  sociis  helps  me  here  ;  and  the  Sonnets  con- 
nected with  Southampton  and  Pembroke  bear  curious 
witness  to  the  fact. 

The  chosen  companions  of  Bacon's  early  middle  period 
of  life  were  men  of  loose  principles,  and  both  from  his 
mother's  letters  about  him,  and  from  his  own  evident 
predilection  for  masques  and  mummeries,  he  was  no 
"  saintly  confessor  "  up  to  the  time  of  at  least  1601  or 
1602,  when  he  said  in  Hamlet :  "I  am  myself  indifferent 
honest ;  but  yet  I  could  accuse  me  of  such  things  that 
it  were  better  my  mother  had  not  borne  me."  Perhaps 
the  "  bruits  "  and  scandal  connected  with  him  had  made 
him  more  careful  since  1597  or  1598,  when,  if  we  may 
take  the  scant  evidence  of  the  Sonnets,  he  was  beginning 
to  be  "  vile  esteemed,"  and  to  be  fearful  that  Southampton 
would  shun  his  close  acquaintance.  It  is  not  at  all  un- 
likely that  the  ill  odour  in  which  he  found  himself  both 
before  and  after  the  Essex  trial,  and  the  dark  period  in 
which  he  was  thereby  involved,  had  grave  effects  on  his 
personal  character,  and  that  these  and  his  thoughts  of  a 
well-dowered  wife  checked  very  considerably  the  grosser 
elements  of  his  nature.  I  seem  almost  able,  from  Hamlet's 
remarks  to  Horatio  about  the  gravedigger  just  before 
Yorick's  skull  had  been  thrown  out,  to  gather  the  very 
year  of  the  "  bruits  "  among  the  vulgar,  the  mendacia 
famcB  which  Bacon  refers  to  in  his  letters  to  Sir  Robert 
Cecil  and  others  in  1598.  Hamlet  says  :  "  How  absolute 
the  knave  is  !  we  must  speak  by  the  card,  or  equivocation 
will  undo  us.  By  the  Lord,  Horatio,  these  three  years 
I  have  taken  note  of  it ;  the  age  is  grown  so  picked,  that 
the  toe  of  the  peasant  comes  so  near  the  heel  of  the 
courtier,  he  galls  his  kibe." 

Now,  taking  Hamlet  to  be  written  in  1601  or  a  little 
earlier  (for  I  do  not  think  Bacon  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  Ur-Hamlet  we  hear  of  in  1589  ;  this  was  Kyd's),  we 
get  by  subtracting  the  three  years  of  the  text  the  very 
time  when,  as  we  have  supposed  from  the  Sonnets  and 
other  grounds,  the  public  adverse  rumours  were  strongest 
against  Bacon.     What  if  the  slander  was  a  country  one 


BACON'S   WILD   OATS  263 

connected  with  Gorhambury,  and  hushed  up  with  diffi- 
culty among  a  rural  population  ?  Village  slander  spreads 
like  wildfire,  but  seldom  gets  into  print.  Hamlet  speaking 
specially  of  the  peasant  leads  one  to  think  of  village  gossip, 
which  notoriously  puts  the  worst  construction  on  doubtful 
matters.  What  if  we  have  here  a  reminiscence  of  the 
"  old  scent  "  which  Coke  was  following  up  when  he  talked 
about  the  capias  utlegatum  being  clapped  on  Bacon's  back, 
and  used  other  insulting  and  disgraceful  words  ? 

I  know  the  chief  authorities  on  Bacon's  life  take  the 
capias  utlegatum  incident  to  refer  to  Bacon's  arrest  for 
debt  in  1598,  but  I  think  the  reference  is  to  something 
much  more  serious  than  this — either  to  the  treason  in 
being  the  author  of  Richard  II.  (but  there  would  be  no 
need  of  "  disgraceful  words  "  here),  or,  as  I  believe,  to 
some  scandalous  charge  evaded  by  Bacon ;  this  was 
felony. 

I  am  willing  to  allow  all  that  can  possibly  or  probably 
be  said  in  Francis  Bacon's  favour  regarding  the  "wild 
oats"  of  his  youth,  but  I  confess  I  do  not  hke  the 
frequency  with  which  beautiful  and  graceful  young  girls 
don  the  male  attire,  and  especially  the  unsavoury  way  in 
which  they  discuss  their  male  dress  in  the  Shakespeare 
Plays.  This  last  is  an  unusual  feature  in  Renaissance 
Romance  or  Drama,  and  is  rather  suggestive  of  Bacon, 
as  it  sends  our  thoughts  to  Aubrey's  Greek  appellative 
and  the  words  that  follow  about  Bacon's  "minions." 
Moreover,  the  name  Rosalind  chose  in  ^s  You  Like  It, 
when  she  was  disguised  as  a  young  lad,  was  Ganymede,  a 
distinctly  unpleasant  name  through  its  classical  allusions; 
for  Ganymede  was  a  minion  par  excellence.  I  know,  of 
course,  that  this  was  the  name  in  Lodge's  original  tale, 
from  which  the  play  of  ^s  You  Like  It  was  to  a  great 
extent  derived,  but  the  author  of  the  play  could  easily 
have  altered  the  name  if  he  had  chosen  to  do  so — indeed 
he  did  alter  most  of  the  names — but  he  kept  Ganymede 
and  one  or  two  others.  But  I  lay  very  little  stress  on 
this  name  being  chosen,  for  I  think  it  is  far  more  likely 
that  the  name  was  chosen  casually  and  harmlessly  rather 


264  HAD   BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

than  that  Bacon  and  Lodge  should  be  written  down 
Arcades  ambo,  or  that  we  should  say  of  them,  as  Dogberry 
said  of  his  prisoners/'  'Fore  God,  they  are  both  in  a  tale." 
And  who  is  there  acquainted  with  Renaissance  literature 
who  does  not  know  that  it  was  one  of  the  commonest 
incidents  of  Italian  and  Spanish  novels  for  young  girls 
to  dress  themselves  in  the  attire  of  a  page  so  that  they 
could  follow  their  true  love  and  be  near  him  ?  Bandello's 
Tales  and  the  Diana  of  Montemayor  are  full  of  such  male 
impersonators,  and  I  have  often  thought  that  it  was 
through  reading  the  Diana  of  the  Spanish  novelist,  which 
had  just  been  translated  in  1598  for  the  English  upper 
classes,  that  Mary  Fitton  went  to  meet  her  lover  Pembroke 
with  her  clothes  tucked  up  like  a  man.  She  had  been 
reading  the  last  fashionable  novel,  and  she  was  madcap 
enough  to  do  anything  that  was  up-to-date  and  out  of 
the  common. 

And  while  on  the  subject  of  Montemayor's  Diana, 
mention  should  be  made  of  its  connection  with  the  author- 
ship of  the  Plays.  It  really  affords  a  strong  proof  of  the 
Baconian  theory,  for  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  is 
based  on  incidents  in  Montemayor's  Diana,  and  this 
Shakespearian  play  was  written  before  Diana  had  been 
translated  from  the  Spanish,  for  it  is  mentioned  by 
Francis  Meres  in  1598,  and  had  most  likety  been  written 
and  acted  long  before  this  date.  For  in  1584-5,  as  we 
know  by  the  Court  Records,  The  History  of  Felix  and 
Philomena  was  played  before  the  Queen  at  Greenwich. 
Now  Felix  and  Felismena  are  hero  and  heroine  of  Monte- 
mayor's novel,  and  so  the  Queen  would  be  listening  in 
1585  to  an  imitation  or  reproduction  in  some  form  of  the 
Diana,  not  at  all  unlikely  to  be  an  early  attempt  of  young 
Francis  Bacon  which  was  afterwards  revised  more  suo, 
and  presented  as  the  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  which  is 
itself  an  early  play,  as  we  judge  by  expressions  in  it 
reminding  us  of  the  early  Sonnets.  But  the  great  proof 
in  favour  of  Bacon  that  this  play  affords,  is  that  the 
whole  atmosphere  of  it,  so  to  speak,  is  in  the  highest 
degree  aristocratic,  and  far  removed  from  that  which 


MONTEMAYOR'S   DIANA  265 

Will  Shakespeare  breathed.  It  was  clearly  a  play  for 
the  court,  and  the  allusions  would  be  well  understood 
by  an  aristocratic  audience.  For  most  of  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  who  aspired  to  frequent  court  society  were 
fairly  acquainted  with  the  latest  novels  in  their  original 
foreign  languages,  and  there  were  generally  translations 
for  those  few  who  could  only  read  or  speak  their  own 
vernacular.  Now,  since  the  fashionable  romance  of 
Diana  was  not  translated  into  English  till  1598,  it  looks 
pretty  evident  that  the  author  of  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona  would  either  have  to  translate  from  the  original 
Spanish  or  some  foreign  version  of  it,  or  else  borrow  any 
manuscript  English  version  he  could  procure.  There 
might  just  possibly  be  two  English  MS.  versions  finished, 
viz.,  that  of  Barth.  Yonge,  eventually  published  in  1598, 
and  that  of  Thomas  Wilson,  dedicated  to  the  Earl  of 
Southampton  in  1596,  and  perhaps  written  at  an  earlier 
date.  But  whether  the  author  grappled  with  the  foreign 
languages,  or  borrowed  the  English  translations  before 
they  were  published,  in  both  cases  Francis  Bacon  is  far 
the  more  likely  man.  As  for  Will  Shakespeare  attempting 
Diana  either  in  Spanish  or  Italian,  it  seems  to  me  a 
ridiculous  supposition,  nor  would  he  fare  much  better 
in  French. 

Sir  Henry  Irving  asked  the  pertinent  question  :  "  Why 
on  earth  could  not  Bacon  let  the  world  know  in  his  life- 
time that  he  had  written  Shakespeare  ?  "  Mrs.  Gallup's 
reply  was  :  "  The  principal  reason  was  because  the  history 
of  his  life  was  largely  given  in  those  Plays,  not  alone  in 
the  bi-Hteral  cypher  but  in  the  word-cypher,  and  the 
revelation  of  that  in  the  lifetime  of  Queen  EHzabeth 
would  have  cost  him  his  own  Ufe.  He  hoped  against 
hope  to  the  very  day  of  the  Queen's  death  that  she  would 
relent  and  proclaim  him  heir  to  the  throne.  But  he 
states  that  the  witnesses  were  then  dead,  and  the  papers 
that  would  then  authenticate  his  claims  destroyed." 

My  reply  is  a  very  different  one.  It  was  not  through 
any  "more  scandals  about  Ehzabeth,"  but  on  account 
of  a  personal  scandal  of  his  own,  which  might  involve 


266  HAD    BACON   A   MISTRESS? 

also  people  of  high  rank  who  were  still  alive.  And  if  it 
be  further  asked  why  did  not  Bacon's  own  private  secre- 
tary Rawley,  who  lived  after  him  and  edited  his  works, 
or  Ben  Jonson,  who  lived  ten  or  eleven  years  after  him, 
give  to  the  world  the  wondrous  news,  my  suggestion  is 
that  if  they  knew  it,  which  I  think  extremely  likely,  they 
refrained  from  pity  and  sympathy  with  a  great  and 
unfortunate  man  latterly,  who  had  made  them  firm 
friends  of  his,  and  who  earnestly  desired  to  throw  a  veil 
of  concealment  over  the  early  errors  of  his  sportive  blood, 
which  had  been  so  long  renounced  and  atoned  for  by  his 
pure  devotion  to  Dame  Nature,  his  new  method  of  enlist- 
ing her  in  the  service  of  man,  and  his  admirable  philan- 
thropia  or  lifelong  endeavour  for  the  public  good. 

But  it  will,  I  hope,  have  alread}^  been  gathered  from 
previous  remarks  of  mine  that  1  see  another  mistress  con- 
nected with  Bacon  who  is  certainly  very  different  from 
Mary  Fitton  the  maid  of  honour ; — different  in  age  and 
experience  and  in  social  position — an  earlier  flame  and  a 
more  unworthy  and  degrading  one — a  more  notorious  and 
infamous  one  as  well,  if  Marston  really  meant  that  she  was 
mixed  up  in  Marlowe's  early  death.  Apparently  she  was 
connected  with  the  habiiu/es  of  the  playhouses,  and  known 
to  Southampton  and  Bacon  in  that  way  first.  Or  if  we 
put  aside  Marston's  allusion  to  Marlowe  as  uncertain, 
there  is  other  evidence  pointing  to  a  married  "Dark 
Lady,"  a  citizen's  wife  of  doubtful  virtue,  whose  shop 
was  the  resort  of  the  fashionable  gallants.  And  then 
there  is  Mrs.  Stopes'  suggestion  that  it  was  Jacquinetta 
VautroUier,  the  dark  French  connection  (by  marriage)  of 
Richard  Field  the  publisher.  Since  Field  published 
Bacon's  Venus  and  Adonis  in  1593,  this  seems  to  be  a 
shrewd  suggestion,  by  no  means  improbable.  But  Mrs. 
Stopes  has  no  evidence  to  back  it  up,  except  that  Field 
was  a  Stratford  man  and  knew  Shakespeare  the  Player. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

BACON   AS   A   POET 

After  all,  I  believe  the  true  estimate  of  Bacon  will  be 
found  to  be  this,  that  he  was  not  nearly  so  eminent  a 
philosopher  as  he  was  a  poet  and  orator,  and  withal  a 
supreme  master  of  human  speech.  I  suppose  no  one 
knew  him  more  intimately  and  with  more  freedom  from 
"concealment"  than  his  great  friend  Tobie  Matthew. 
His  testimony  is  therefore  of  prime  importance,  and  is 
to  the  following  effect :  "A  man  so  rare  in  knowledge 
of  so  many  several  kinds,  endued  with  the  facility  and 
felicity  of  expressing  it  all,  in  so  elegant,  significant,  so 
abundant  and  yet  so  choice  and  ravishing  a  way  of  words, 
of  metaphors  and  allusions,  as  perhaps  the  world  hath 
not  seen  since  it  was  a  world."  * 

The  general  belief  of  critics  has  nearly  always  been 
that  Bacon  was  essentially  prosaic,  not  to  say  prosy.  His 
closest  friend  and  contemporary,  who  was  frequently 
corresponding  with  him,  and  was  doubtless  admitted  to 
his  secret,  thought  very  differently.  I  maintain  that  his 
carefully  expressed  opinion  as  above  would  outweigh  the 
consensus  of  scores  of  so-called  "  critics  of  style."  Un- 
fortunately, too,  Mr.  Spedding,  who  has  studied  Bacon's 
known  works  more  carefully  perhaps  than  any  man  living 
or  dead,  has  helped  to  endorse  this  opinion  of  the  absence 
of  poetic  fire  in  Bacon  with  his  own  weighty  signature, 
and  has  practically  declared  that  Bacon  was  incapable 
of  writing  either  the  Plays  or  the  Poems,  and  that  the 
styles  of  the  two  writers  were  perfectly  distinct  and  un- 
mistakable.    These   dogmatic   assertions,    uttered    from 

*  Matthew,  Collection  of  Letters y  1660,  Preface. 
267 


268  BACON   AS  A  POET 

behind  the  aegis  of  unquestioned  authority,  have  with 
many  people  put  an  end  to  any  further  research  into 
the  question.  This  is  unfortunate,  for  really  Spedding, 
with  all  his  deep  acquaintance  with  Bacon's  Life, 
Letters,  and  Works,  knew  hardly  more  than  any  one 
else  about  that  very  important  period  of  Bacon's  life 
between  the  ages  of  twenty  and  thirty.  It  is  during 
this  decennium,  and  a  little  earlier,  that  the  flowers  of 
poetic  fancy  are  generally  wont  to  bud  and  blossom, 
and  it  is  just  this  period  of  Bacon's  life  that  is  so  little 
known. 

If  Spedding  had  known  what  young  Francis  was  doing 
in  the  years  1580  to  1590  as  well  as  he  knew  his  life  later 
on,  his  dictum  would  have  been  much  more  weighty  ; 
but  as  it  is,  I  hold  that  it  has  no  warrant  to  carry  con- 
clusive conviction  with  it,  especially  when  we  remember 
that  this  opinion  was  probably  founded  on  Bacon's  own 
remarks  on  Poetry  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning.  But 
it  is  quite  possible,  and  I  think  probable,  that  here  Bacon 
"  concealed  "  his  real  attitude  to  both  Poetry  and  the 
Drama,  intentionally.  Thus  Spedding  would  be  misled. 
But  even  the  careful  and  accurate  Spedding  was  incon- 
sistent, for  although  it  is  his  well-known  ipse  dixit 
against  the  Baconian  authorship  which  has  strengthened 
the  orthodox  belief  to  such  a  degree  that  very  few 
take  the  trouble  to  search  into  the  dispute  any  further, 
yet  this  absolute  anti  -  Baconian  almost  "gives  him- 
self away "  with  the  following  remark  :  "  The  truth 
is  that  Bacon  was  not  without  the  fine  frenzy  of  the 
poet.  .  .  .  Had  his  genius  taken  the  ordinary  direc- 
tion, I  have  little  doubt  that  it  would  have  carried 
him  to  a  place  among  the  great  poets."  Yet  this 
was  the  supreme  authority  who  doubted  whether  there 
were  five  consecutive  lines  in  either  Bacon  or  Shake- 
speare that  could  possibly  be  interchanged  and  not 
recognised  at  once  by  any  person  "  familiar  with  their 
several  styles  " !  1 

It  is  far  too  much  taken  for  granted  in  this  controversy 
that  there  is  an  absolute  consensus  of  opinion  against  the 


BACON   AS   A    POET  269 

poetical  gifts  of  Francis  Bacon.     This  is  not  the  case,  as 
the  following  extracts  show  : 

"The  poetic  faculty  was  powerful  in  Bacon's  mind." — 
Macaulay. 

"  Another  virtue  of  the  book  (Bacon's  Essays)  is  one  which 
is  not  frequently  found  in  union  with  the  scientific  or  philo- 
sophical intellect ;  viz.,  a  poetical  imagination.  Bacon's  similes, 
for  their  aptness  and  their  vividness,  are  of  the  kind  of  which 
Shakespeare,  or  Goethe,  or  Richter  might  have  been  proud." 
—John  Stuart  Blackie. 

"  To  this  Bacon  would  bring  something  of  that  high  poetical 
spirit  which  gleams  out  at  every  page  of  his  philosophy." 
— Charles  Knight. 

"Reason  in  him  works  like  an  instinct;  the  chain  of  thought 
reaches  to  the  highest  heaven  of  invention." —  William  Hazlitt. 

"We  have  only  to  open  The  Advancement  of  Learning  to  see 
how  the  Attic  bees  clustered  above  the  cradle  of  the  new  philo- 
sophy. Poetry  pervaded  the  thoughts,  it  inspired  the  similes,  it 
hymned  in  the  majestic  sentences  of  the  wisest  of  mankind." 
— E,  Bulwer  Lytton. 

There  are  many  more,  and  they  are  the  common 
property  of  any  reader  who  is  unprejudiced  enough  to 
open  the  leaves  of  Mr.  Edwin  Reed's  anti-Shakespearian 
works.  Unfortunately  he  seldom  gives  chapter  or  verse 
for  these  extracts,  and  I  have  not  taken  the  trouble  to 
verify  them,  but  I  believe  there  is  every  reason  for  accept- 
ing them  as  correct.  I  have  noticed  one  myself  from 
De  Maistre,  and  have  given  it,  with  the  reference, 
further  on. 

In  later  life  Bacon's  views  with  regard  to  Poetry  seem 
to  have  considerably  altered.  The  difference  between 
the  views  held  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning  of  1605, 
and  the  remarks  on  Poetry  in  the  revised  and  enlarged 
edition  of  the  same  book  in  1623,  is  very  striking.  In 
his  later  years  Poetry  holds  a  far  less  important  place 
among  the  elements  of  human  knowledge  and  progress. 
In  Advancement  of  Learning  (1605)  he  claims  that  "for 
the  expression  of  affections,  passions,  corruptions,  and 
customs,  we  are  beholden  to  poets'  more  than  to  philo- 


270  BACON   AS   A   POET 

sophers'  works."  In  the  corresponding  place  of  the 
revised  edition  of  1623  he  drops  this  claim  altogether. 
In  1605  "  Poesy "  is  declared  to  be  one  of  the  three 
"  goodly  fields  " — "  history  "  and  "  experience  "  being 
the  other  two — where  "  grow  observations  "  concerning 
the  "  several  characters  and  tempers  of  men's  natures 
and  dispositions."  In  1623  this  is  omitted,  or  at  least 
depreciated  considerably,  because  poets  are  so  apt  to 
"  exceed  "  the  truth.  In  fact,  as  E.  W.  S.  justly  remarks,* 
the  revised  edition  of  1623  so  underrates  the  value  of 
Poesy  and  Works  of  the  Imagination,  that  we  are  led  to 
think  "  that  Bacon,  if  he  had  not  been  hampered  by 
previous  publications,  would  have  deposed  both  Poetry 
and  Imagination  from  the  high  place  they  still  continued 
to  occupy  in  his  system." 

I  suggest  that  as  Bacon  grew  older  he  looked  with 
much  less  appreciation  on  his  earlier  contributions  to 
Poetry  and  its  criticism.  He  thought  far  less  of  the 
Shakespeare  Poems  and  Plays  than  he  did  in  younger 
days.  His  New  Method,  his  Novum  Organum,  and  Instau- 
ratio  possessed  him  and  cast  out  much  of  his  earlier 
aspirations.  Moreover,  his  philosophical  methods  could 
be  exactly  preserved  in  a  language  that  would  live  (Latin), 
while  his  "  works  of  recreation  "  could  not  be  so  pre- 
served. 

May  not  these  things  partly  account  for  the  strange 
neglect  and  concealment  of  the  earlier  and  immortal 
productions  of  his  genius,  and  for  his  disregard  of  the 
fame  that  might  attach  to  their  author  ?  I  say  "  partly 
account  "  advisedly,  for  I  have  given  other  reasons  else- 
where for  this  concealment,  viz.,  the  wish  in  early  days 
not  to  offend  relations  and  friends  ;  not  to  bring  envy 
or  ill-odour  on  himself ;  not  to  rouse  personal  controversy, 
and  such  like.  I  venture  therefore  to  suggest,  although 
against  enormous  odds,  that  Bacon  was  a  born  poet,  and 
that  it  was  the  Muses  who  were  the  first  to  claim  that 
incomparable    intellect    for    themselves.     But    circum- 

*  Shakespeare- Bacon,  an  Essay,  1899,  p.  41,  where  all  the  references  are 
given. 


BACON'S  EARLY  GENIUS        271 

stances  were  dead  against  his  open  profession  of  being 
their  true  hegeman.  He  knew  well  enough  where  his 
genius  dehghted  to  lead  him,  but  his  position  in  life  and 
his  surroundings  forced  him  to  follow  his  inner  impulse 
not  openly  to  be  seen  of  all  men,  but  hidden  safely  under 
a  mask.  Openly  he  became  a  great  lawyer  and  politician, 
but  his  heart  was  not  in  the  work — multum  incola  fuit 
anima  mea  was  his  oft-quoted  complaint.  He  kept  his 
countenance  beneath  his  self-imposed  literary  mask  with 
great  caution  and  skill,  and  like  a  Franciscan  brother 
in  his  cowl  and  rope-girdled  cassock,  he  died  and  was 
buried,  still  wearing  it. 

Some  of  us,  at  last,  are  beginning  to  lift  up  the  edges 
of  it.  Throughout  his  whole  life,  he  voluntarily  lifted  off 
the  mask  to  but  very  few — to  his  dear  brother  Anthony, 
his  close  friend  Sir  Tobie,  his  literary  adviser  Bishop 
Andrewes  —  perhaps  these  wellnigh  complete  the  list. 
There  were  no  doubt  some  others  who  discovered  the 
secret  against  his  wish — and  among  these  I  should  put 
Ben  Jonson,  Marston,  Hall,  Ned  Blount,  and  some  of  the 
piratical  printers  and  their  jackals  ;  but  both  the  scandal 
of  the  Sonnets  and  the  face  behind  the  mask  were  kept 
from  public  observation  and  comment  in  a  truly  marvel- 
lous way.  The  Star  Chamber  and  its  terrors  had,  I 
believe,  somewhat  to  do  with  this,  for  the  law  of  libel 
and  the  charge  of  scandalum  magnatum  could  be  very 
effectively  used  in  those  days  by  people  high  in  authority. 

I  here  maintain  that  Bacon's  genius  led  him  in  his 
earlier  days  to  poetry  and  to  a  style  of  oratorical  prose, 
which  for  singularity  of  language,  largeness  of  vocabulary, 
and  richness  of  illustrations  has  hardly  ever  been  equalled 
in  our  language.  He  showed  his  unique  mastery  of  the 
English  language  both  early  and  late  in  life,  and  the 
main  difference  between  the  two  periods  seems  to  be  that 
he  tried  to  be  less  ornate,  less  "  spangled,"  and  "  more 
current  in  the  style  "  in  his  later  years.  He  had  learned 
by  the  experience  of  years  that  this  innate  magniloquence 
to  which  his  genius  led  him  was  sometimes  against  him 
rather  than  not,  and  so  we  find  he  asks  his  friend  Sir  Tobie 


272  BACON   AS   A  POET 

to  mark  any  passages  (in  a  MS.  forwarded)  where  he 
(Bacon)  may  have  yielded  to  his  genius  {indulgere  genio). 
He  intended  to  revise  such.  We  have  also  Bacon's  own 
clearest  evidence  that  he  was  "  a  man  born  for  literature  " 
(litteras)  rather  than  for  anything  else,  and  "  forced  against 
his  own  genius  {contra  genium  suum)  into  affairs,  by  he 
knew  not  what  fate."  *  Dr.  Gamett,  writing  to  the 
Times  for  July  5,  1902,  suggests  that  the  fact  of  Bacon 
being  a  great  lawyer  is  very  much  against  the  Baconian 
authorship  of  the  Plays,  for  no  one  illustrious  in  forensic 
circles  has  ever  produced  a  masterpiece  either  in  poetry 
or  the  drama.  Dr.  Garnett  is  not  likely  to  be  incorrect 
in  his  literary  facts,  but  I  demur  to  his  Baconian  inference, 
for  Bacon  was  a  lawyer  in  spite  of  himself,  and  was  thus 
an  exception  to  the  general  rule. 

But  how  any  literary  student  of  Bacon  can  fail  to 
see  in  his  works  the  vera  insignia  of  a  poet,  or  pass  over 
without  notice  the  many  spolia  opima  of  our  vernacular 
therein  contained,  is  to  me  most  surprising.  Long  ago 
Shelley  said  Bacon  "  was  a  poet,"  and  his  insight  ought 
to  be  worth  something,  for  he  bore  the  true  stamp  of  the 
divine  art  himself,  and  had  only  Bacon's  prose  to  guide 
him.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  Francis  Bacon  began  to 
be  a  concealed  poet  as  early  as  1579,  ^^^  was  laying  the 
foundations  of  the  Plays  and  Poems  that  were  to  make 
another  man  immortal  during  all  the  ten  years,  1580  to 
1590,  of  which  we  know  so  little.  He  was  then  a  great 
admirer  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  we  shall  never  perhaps 
know  how  often  these  two  illustrious  men  discussed  in 
friendly  conference  "  the  excellence  of  sweet  Poesie." 
Later  on,  when  his  Novum  Organum  engrossed  his  thoughts, 
he  altered  his  views  about  poetiy  and  word-painting,  and 
misled  his  critics  and  editors  right  up  to  the  present  day. 
He,  who  as  plain  Francis  Bacon  had  the  finest  collection 
of  "  spangled  "  words,  and  the  most  extensive  vocabulary 
of  all  the  gentlemen  of  the  "  Innes  of  Court,"  when  he 
was  getting  older  and  advancing  slowly  to  the  highest 
offices  of  the  land,  seemed  to  despise  the  former  glories 

*  Spedding,  Bacon's  Works,  i.  792. 


PYGMALION'S   FRENZY  273 

of  his  vocabulary,  as  a  hindrance  both  to  philosophy  and 
truth.  "  It  is,"  he  says,  "  the  first  distemper  of  learning 
when  men  study  words  and  not  matter.  ...  It  seems  to 
me  that  Pygmalion's  frenzy  is  a  good  emblem  or  por- 
traiture of  this  vanity  ;  for  words  are  but  the  images  of 
matter  ;  and  except  they  have  life  of  reason  and  invention, 
to  fall  in  love  with  them  is  all  one  as  to  fall  in  love  with 
a  picture."  *  We  must  be  careful,  however,  to  take 
these  remarks  as  only  directed  against  bare  and  excessive 
verbiage — words  without  life  in  them  ;  but  if  they  had 
"life  of  reason  and  invention,"  such  as  the  "  Tables  of 
Invention,"  which  were,  so  to  speak,  "  living  "  {tanquam 
vivce),  it  was  a  very  different  matter. 

I  will  say  no  more  just  now  as  to  the  new  indications 
I  think  I  have  discovered  of  Bacon's  interest  in  poetry. 
That  part  shall  be  left  until  some  future  work.  We  have 
already  seen  how  Bacon,  when  writing  to  Essex  in  1594, 
hints  that  he  has  been  writing  poetry,  and  speaks  without 
concealment  of  "  the  waters  of  Parnassus."  There  is 
another  pertinent  instance  later  on  in  1599.  Bacon,  at 
that  date,  writes  to  Lord  Henry  Howard,  a  scholar  and 
litterateur,  in  these  terms :  "  For  your  Lordship's  love, 
rooted  upon  good  opinion  I  esteem  it  highly,  because  I  have 
tasted  of  the  fruits  of  it ;  arid  we  both  have  tasted  of  the 
best  waters,  in  my  account,  to  knit  minds  together.^^  A 
plain  enough  confession  that  Bacon  was  a  lover  of  the 
Muses. 

But  perhaps  the  strongest  statement  that  Bacon  was  a 
poet  comes  from  a  literary  enemy,  a  Frenchman  and  a  rigid 
Roman  Catholic.  One  of  the  severest  attacks  ever  made 
on  Bacon's  philosophy  was  the  Examen  de  la  Philosophie 
de  Bacon,  by  Count  Joseph  de  Maistre,  published  post- 
humously (Paris,  1836).  It  is  one  long  tirade  against 
Bacon,  calling  him  an  atheist,  a  hypocrite,  and  a  charlatan; 
and  yet,  strange  to  say,  the  tirade  abates  its  force  towards 
the  end,  and  admits  his  poetic  genius  and  some  other 
good  qualities  in  the  following  terms  :  "La  nature  I'avait 
cre6  bel  esprit,   moraliste  sense  et  ing^nieux,   ecrivain 

*   Advancement  of  Learning,  Book  I.  iv.  2. 

S 


274  BACON   AS     A   POET 

elegant,  avec  je  ne  sais  quelle  veine  poetique  qui  lui 
fournit  sans  cesse  une  foule  d'images  extremement 
heureuses,  de  maniere  que  ses  ecrits,  comme  fables,  sont 
encore  tres  amusant."  And  elsewhere  (vol.  i.  p.  5)  he 
says  "  rarement  il  resiste  a  I'envie  d'etre  po^te."  This 
recalls  Shelley's  statement  that  Bacon  was  a  poet,  and 
also  Bacon's  own  question  to  his  friend  Tobie  Matthew 
as  to  whether  he  had  given  way  to  his  genius  (poetry  ?) 
in  his  last  words  sent  to  his  friend  on  approval. 

My  strong  impression  is  that  with  Francis  Bacon  love 
for  literature  and  poetry  came  long  before  his  great 
passion  for  science,  and  one  was  in  fact  eventually  extin- 
guished by  the  other.  Hear  his  own  words  :  "  Poetry 
is  as  it  were  a  dream  of  learning.  .  .  .  But  now  it  is 
time  for  me  to  become  fully  awake,  to  lift  myself  up 
from  the  earth,  and  to  wing  my  way  through  the  liquid 
ether  of  philosophy  and  the  sciences."  *  But  he  could 
not  express  his  simple  intention  without  falling  (as  above) 
into  poetical  prose.  Such  was  his  genius,  as  he  himself 
knew  and  admitted.  How  modern  Shakespearians  can 
insist  upon  denying  to  Bacon  any  claim  whatever  to  pose 
as  a  poet,  is  one  of  the  greatest  puzzles  to  me  in  the 
whole  controversy. 

Extant  seventeenth-century  testimonies  to  the  exist- 
ence of  a  most  intimate  relation  between  Bacon  and  the 
Muses,  Apollo,  Poetry,  Helicon,  Parnassus,  &c.,  are 
embarrassingly  numerous.  Thomas  Randolph,  in  Latin 
verses  published  in  1640,  but  probably  written  some 
fourteen  years  earlier,  says  Phoebus  was  accessory  to 
Bacon's  death,  because  he  was  afraid  lest  Bacon  should 
some  day  come  to  be  crowned  King  of  Poetry  or  the 
Muses.  Further  on  the  same  writer  declares  that  as 
Bacon  "  was  himself  a  singer,"  he  did  not  really  need  to 
be  celebrated  in  song  by  others.  George  Herbert  calls 
Bacon  the  colleague  of  Sol  (Apollo).  Thomas  Campion 
addresses  Bacon  thus  :  "  Whether  the  thorny  volume  of 
the  Law,  or  the  Schools,  or  the  Sweet  Muse  allure  thee." 
George  Wither  in  his  Great  Assizes  at  Parnassus,  1644, 

*  Spedding,  Bacon's  Woj-ks,  i.  539. 


CONTEMPORARY   EVIDENCE  275 

makes  Bacon  Chancellor  of  Parnassus  and  vSir  Philip 
Sidney  High  Constable.  And  there  are  many  other 
similar  praises  in  the  Manes  Verulamiani  which  were 
prefixed  to  Gilbert  Wats's  translation  of  the  De  Augmentis 
in  1640.  All  these  evidences,  and  more,  have  been  before 
the  world  for  many  many  years  and  no  one  seems  to  give 
any  heed  to  them.  The  list  could  easily  be  increased, 
but  is  it  worth  while  ?  Would  it  avail  anything  to  con- 
vince people  who  in  a  great  majority  hold  a  very  strong 
opinion  that  Bacon  was  the  exact  opposite  of  a  poet,  and 
could  not  write  a  humorous  line  to  save  his  life  ?  Experi- 
ence has  taught  me  that  it  will  not  be  of  the  slightest 
use.  So  I  forbear  ;  they  must  keep  their  opinions,  and 
I  will  keep  mine  until  I  hear  evidence  to  overthrow  it. 
And  out  of  the  many  other  proofs  I  could  give  I  will 
choose  but  one.  It  is  by  a  contemporary  poet,  John 
Davies  of  Hereford,  and  openly  addressed  to  Bacon  in 
print  while  he  was  alive. 

To  the  royall,  ingenious,  and  all  learned  knight, 

Sir  Francis  Bacon. 

Thy  bounty  and  the  Beauty  of  thy  witt, 
Compris'd  in  lists  of  Law  and  learned  Arts^ 
Each  making  thee  for  great  hnploiment  fitt, 
Which  now  thou  hast  (though  short  of  thy  deserts), 
Compells  my  Pen  to  let  fall  shining  hike 
And  to  bedew  the  Baies  that  deck  thy  Front ; 
And  to  thy  health  in  Helicon  to  drinke 
As  to  her  Bellamour,  the  Muse  is  wont  : 
For  thou  dost  her  embozom  ;  and  dost  use 
Her  company  for  sport  'twixt  grave  affairs. 
So  utterest  Law  the  livelyer  through  thy  Muse^ 
And  for  that  all  thy  Notes  are  sweetest  Aires  ; 
My  muse  thus  notes  thy  worth  in  every  Line 
With  yncke  which  thus  she  sugers  ;  so  to  shine. 

This  seems  plain  enough,  and  I  only  remark  that  Davies 
could  not  possibly  call  Bacon  the  Muses'  Bellamour  or 
darling  if  he  only  knew  the  poetry  of  Bacon  that  this 
age  recognises.  Davies  clearly  knew  (line  10)  what 
Bacon  called  his  "  works  of  recreation."     His  last  two 


276  BACON   AS   A   POET 

lines  refer,    I  suppose,   to  an  illuminated   presentation 
copy.* 

But,  to  my  mind,  one  of  the  best  of  evidences  that 
Bacon  was  a  poet  comes  from  his  own  words,  uttered  on 
Nov.  17,  1595,  by  an  amateur  gentleman  actor  "that  in 
Cambridge  played  Giraldy  "  in  the  presence  of  the  Queen 
and  a  large  gathering  of  court  notables  at  one  of  the 
"  Triumphs  "  that  were  so  much  the  fashion  in  those 
days.  Tobie  Matthew,  Bacon's  lifelong  friend,  was  also 
there,  and  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  proceedings. 
He  took  the  character  of  the  squire  of  the  great  Lord 
who  presented  the  "  Device,"  and  who  also  had  the  con- 
temporary credit  of  composing  the  words,  for  it  is  always 
spoken  of  as  "  My  Lord  Essex's  Device."  But  Tobie 
Matthew  knew  well  enough  who  was  the  true  author  of 
the  remarkable  speeches  it  contained,  and  so  do  we  now. 
Time  reveals  many  mysteries,  and  has  made  known  to 
us,  by  the  discovery  of  a  rough  copy  partly  in  Bacon's 
writing,  that  the  Device  of  my  Lord  Essex,  presented 
Nov.  17,  1595,  was  the  work  of  that  amazing  genius, 
Francis  Bacon.     I  have  spoken  somewhat  of  it  in  another 

*  And  here  I  would  make  the  bold  and  novel  suggestion  that  the  famous 
Shake-speare's  Sonnets  were  not  called  "  sugred  "  because  they  were  sweet  as 
sugar,  but  because  they  were  carefully  prepared  for  presentation  by  an  expert 
scrivener,  and  came  into  the  hands  of  the  "  private  friends  "  of  the  author  with 
their  manuscript  characters  heightened  and  made  more  brilliant  by  the  art  of 
the  illuminator  and  gilder,  and  the  ink  *'  sugred  "  so  as  to  shine  on  the  scroll. 
I  possess  several  German  manuscript  broad-sheets  addressed  to  great  personages 
c.  1600  to  1650  which  have  been  sprinkled  in  this  manner,  and  still  retain  their 
shiny  brightness.  I  suppose  the  "sugring"  was  effected  by  something  in  the 
form  of  a  pepper-caster  or  like  the  pounce-box  of  our  ancestors.  I  am  aware 
that  Thomas  Bancroft  in  1639  wrote  the  following: 

To  Shakespeare. 
Thy  Muse's  sugred  dainties  seem  to  us 
Like  the  fam'd  apples  of  old  Tantalus, 
For  we  (admiring)  see  and  hear  thy  straines, 
But  none  I  see  or  hear  those  sweet  attaines. 

This  of  course  tells  against  my  suggestion,  but  Bancroft,  like  others  down 
to  the  present  day,  may  have  taken  the  primary  and  more  obvious  meaning 
that  sugred  =  sweet  without  thinking  further  about  it,  and  without  knowing 
that  Francis  Bacon  had  at  least  one  "sugred"  sonnet  addressed  to  himself 
with  "  sugred  yncke." 


CONTEMPORARY   EVIDENCE  277 

chapter  on  the  Pallas-Shake-speare  evidence,  and  to  avoid 
repetition  shall  only  deal  with  that  part  of  the  Device 
which  proves  to  me  so  forcibly  that  Bacon  was  a  poet 
par  excellence. 

The  scene  is  the  "  Tiltyard,"  and,  after  certain  usual 
exercises  have  been  successfully  got  through,  Tobie 
Matthew,  arrayed  in  the  garb  of  an  esquire  to  "  my 
Lord,"  addresses  the  Queen,  and  asks  leave  to  present 
to  her  Majesty  three  personages  who  wish  to  speak  before 
her.  They  are  said  to  be  "a  melancholy,  dreaming 
Hermit,  a  mutinous,  brain-sick  Soldier,  and  a  busy,  tedious 
Secretary."  They  come  forward  in  turn,  and  each  makes 
his  suitable  speech.  These  speeches  are  the  undoubted 
composition  of  Francis  Bacon,  though  gossiping  con- 
temporaries and  letter-writers  of  the  day,  such  as  Rowland 
Whyte,  all  seem  to  be  without  the  slightest  inkling  of  such 
a  notion.  They  are  wonderful  compositions,  whether  we 
look  at  the  wise  reflections,  the  fine  imagery  and  striking 
similitudes  in  which  they  aboimd,  or  the  clever  way  they 
put  the  case  of  Essex  before  the  Queen.  The  speech 
that  most  of  all  shows  Bacon  the  Great  Poet  is  the  one 
delivered  by  the  "  melancholy,  dreaming  Hermit."  *  He 
is  advising  that  the  gifts  of  fortune,  the  glories  of  war, 
and  the  diplomacy  of  statecraft  are  wearisome  and 
dangerous  compared  with  the  solace,  variety,  and  eternity 
of  the  gifts  and  fruits  the  Muses  offer.     He  goes  on  : 

Let  thy  master.  Squire,  offer  his  services  to  the  Muses.  It  is 
long  since  they  received  any  into  their  court.  They  give  alms 
continually  at  their  gate,  that  many  come  to  live  upon ;  but  few 
have  they  ever  admitted  into  their  palace.  There  shall  he  find 
secrets  not  dangerous  to  know,  sides  and  parties  not  factious  to 
hold,  precepts  and  commandments  not  penal  to  disobey.  The 
gardens  of  love  wherein  he  now  playeth  himself  are  fresh  to-day 
and  fading  to-morrow,  as  the  sun  comforts  them  or  is  turned  from 
them.  But  the  gardens  of  the  Muses  keep  the  privilege  of  the 
golden  age ;  they  ever  flourish  and  are  in  league  with  time.     The 

*  Cf.  the  '*  melancholy  Jaques  "  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays,  and  the  many 
other  notices  spread  about  the  earlier  dramas.  "  What  sign  is  it  when  a  man 
of  great  spirit  grows  melancholy  ?  "  i^Love's  Labour's  Lost^  I.  ii.  2). 


278  BACON   AS  A   POET 

monuments  of  wit  survive  the  monuments  of  power :  the  verses 
of  a  poet  endure  without  a  syllable  lost,  while  states  and  empires 
pass  many  periods.  Let  him  not  think  he  shall  [not]  descend, 
for  he  is  now  upon  a  hill  as  a  ship  is  mounted  upon  the  ridge  of 
a  wave;  but  that  hill  of  the  Muses  is  above  tempests,  always 
clear  and  calm ;  a  hill  of  the  goodliest  discovery  that  man  can 
have  being  a  prospect  upon  all  the  errors  and  wanderings  of  the 
present  and  former  times.  Yea,  in  some  cliff  *  it  leadeth  the  eye 
beyond  the  horizon  of  time,  and  giveth  no  obscure  divinations  of 
times  to  come." 

Do  not  we  see  here  the  thoughts  and  language  of  a 
supreme  poet  ?  Have  we  not  reproduced  here  in  elegant 
and  courtly  phrase  many  reminiscences  of  the  Sonnets, 
of  Hamlet  and  of  the  early  plays,  of  the  Promus  and  a 
forecast  of  that  cloudless  Parnassian  summit  which 
adorned  the  title-page  of  another  book  a  few  years  later  ? 
We  think  of  Sonnets  Lx.  and  cxxiii.,  and  others  where 
Time's  devouring  hand  is  scorned  by  the  "  ever-living  " 
poet.  We  think  of  the  "  prophetic  soul  "  of  Hamlet  and 
of  Sonnet  cvii.  "  dreaming  on  things  to  come,"  and  we 
feel  sure  we  are  in  the  presence  of  a  great  and  true  poet, 
who,  strangest  of  all  literary  marvels,  let  "  this  man  " 
take  his  admirable  "  Devices,"  and  "  that  man "  his 
immortal  Poems  and  Plays,  and  perhaps  "  another  man  " 
the  contents  of  his  carefully  prepared  commonplace  books 
— content,  when  nearing  the  end  of  all  earthly  labours, 
to  feel  the  inward  assurance  that,  though  only  "  in  a 
despised  weed,"  yet  in  all  laborious  earnestness  he  had 
sought  the  good  of  all  men.  He  too  it  was,  as  I  submit, 
subject  to  correction,  who  placed  on  the  postern  door  of 
the  Palatium  Palladis  in  place  of  finis  those  characteristic 
words  : 

NASCIMVR   IN   COMMVNE   BONVM. 

But  that  is  another  story,  belonging  to  my  proofs  reserved 
for  a  future  volume,  and  is  more  conjectural  than  the 
present  chapter,  which  I  here  conclude  with  the  hope 

*  Spedding  reads  *'as  from  a  cliff"?  but  perhaps  cliff  =  clef.     Cf.  Trotlus 
and  Cressida,  V.  ii.  il. 


A   MIRACLE?  279 

that  I  have  given  soHd  grounds  for  beheving  that  Bacon 
had  by  many  sure  and  infalhble  signs  the  genius  and  the 
language  of  a  supreme  poet. 

But  while  saying  this,  and  hoping  for  its  favourable 
acceptance,  I  would  not  for  one  moment  deny  the  great 
difficulty  there  must  be  for  any  man,  conversant  with 
literary  style,  to  be  able  to  believe  that  the  writer  of  the 
Novum  Organum  was  also  the  writer  of  the  immortal 
Plays,  Poems,  and  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare.  It  would 
be  believing  in  a  "  miracle  "  of  literature,  and  miracles 
do  not  occur  nowadays  in  any  department  of  the  universe. 
Professor  Tyrrell,  as  we  have  seen,  would  rather  believe 
all  the  fables  of  the  Talmud  and  Alcoran,  than  believe 
this  miracle  of  letters,  and  the  Professor  is  D.Litt.,  and 
should  be  a  good  judge.  I  quite  understand  the  Pro- 
fessor's position,  for  it  was  my  own  once,  and  it  was  only 
new  and  unexpected  evidence  that  dislodged  me.  Even 
now  I  know  of  no  instance  like  Bacon's  marvellous  change 
of  style,  manner,  and  identity  in  the  whole  literary  history 
of  mankind.  It  is  a  record  literary  marvel,  unattained 
to  in  the  past,  and  possibly  unattainable  in  the  future. 
As  far  as  the  gap  or  immense  literary  chasm  between  the 
two  styles  is  concerned,  I  can  think  of  but  one  incident 
in  my  personal  experience  at  all  reminding  me  of  it,  and 
that  was  the  private  ordinary  conversation  that  Cora  L.  V. 
Tappan  once  entertained  me  with  for  a  few  minutes 
(by  privilege)  before  she  went  off  into  a  trance — and  her 
so-called  inspirational  utterances  or  lectures  to  her 
audience  while  in  that  mediumistic  state.  The  literary 
chasm  was  very  wide  between  the  two,  and  I  remember 
I  was  much  struck  with  it  many  years  ago,  before  I  had  so 
much  as  heard  of  the  Bacon  theory.  Outside  my  personal 
experience,  the  case  of  T.  L.  Harris  seems  to  me  sometimes 
slightly  akin  to  the  Bacon  "  marvel."  When  I  compare  his 
plain  but  eloquent  sermons  in  England  with  the  poetry 
and  the  prose  of  his  remarkable  series  of  privately-printed 
Califomian  books  from  Santa  Rosa,  I  seem  to  see  a  gulf 
of  difference  almost  as  vast  and  deep  as  lies  between 
Novum  Organum  and  Hamlet  or  King  Lear.     What  if 


28o  BACON   AS   A   POET 

Bacon  had  the  mysterious  power  of  assuming  the  person- 
ahty  and  utterances  of  the  characters  he  put  into  his 
plays,  even  as  som.e  mediums  have  apparently  a  psychical 
power  or  gift  of  assuming  the  manner,  voice,  and  know- 
ledge (?)  of  another  person  alive  or  dead  ?  Milton  was 
"  visited  "  in  the  early  watches  of  the  morning  by  thoughts 
and  phrases  and  fancies  of  a  loftier  character  than  would 
occur  to  him  in  the  ordinary  working  hours  of  the  day ; 
and  other  similar  examples  could  be  adduced.  I  know 
of  no  scrap  of  evidence  in  Bacon's  life  that  points  this 
way,  but,  when  there  seem  so  few  possible  solutions  that 
will  float  us  out  of  the  sea  of  difficulty,  we  are  ready 
to  catch  at  any  straw. 


CHAPTER   XV 

NEW   EVIDENCE   CONNECTING   BACON   WITH   PALLAS 
AND   THE   HYPHENATED   SHAKE-SPEARE 

In  order  that  Baconians  may  get  a  hearing,  two  things 
must  be  proved  either  separately  or  in  conjunction,  as 
Professor  x\.  R.  Wallace  very  properly  puts  it : 

(i)  It  must  be  shown  that  Bacon  wrote  the  Plays ;  or 
(2)  That  Shakespeare  could  not  possibly  have  written 
them. 
The  first  is  the  easier  plan,  for  it  is  proverbially  difficult 
to  prove  a  negative,  and  I  have  chosen  the  easier  plan  ; 
butthegreat  majority  of  anti-Shakespearians  have  chosen 
the  harder  task  of  proving  that  Shakespeare  the  Player 
could  not  be  the  author  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays,  and 
inferentially  could  not  be  author  of  the  Sonnets  and 
Poems  either,  though  generally  these  latter  works  are 
not  much  dwelt  upon  by  Baconians.  They,  as  a  rule, 
manage  their  facts  and  arguments  so  as  to  stand  or  fall 
by  the  Plays. 

One  of  the  latest  and  longest  works  on  the  second  or 
harder  plan,  is  a  book  just  written  (1902)  by  a  Mr.  W.  H. 
Edwards,  author  of  The  Butterflies  of  North  America,  A 
Voyage  upon  the  River  Amazon,  &c.  It  has  more  than 
500  pages,  and  is  entitled  Shaksper  not  Shakespeare,  with 
this  motto  on  the  title-page,  "  Let  every  tub  stand  on 
its  own  bottom."  He  begins  his  vast  demonstration 
thus  : 

"  I   propose  to  show    that   William  Shaksper,  often   called 

Shakspere,  could  not  have  possibly  written  the  works  attributed 

to  him  under  the  name  of  William  Shakespeare  or  Shake-speare. 

That  the  writer  was  a  man  who  was  a  player,  whose  family  name 

was  'Shaksper,'  and  whose  name  is  appended  to  a  deed  and  a 

281 


282  PALLAS   SHAKE-SPEARE 

mortgage  *Shaksper'  and  'Shakspar,'  and  three  times  to  a  will 
'Shaksper' — of  this  there  is  no  evidence,  there  is  nothing  but 
inference,  conjecture,  unwarranted  assumption,  and  baseless 
(though  general)  reputation.  During  his  life  of  fifty-two  years 
none  of  his  relatives,  neighbours,  or  intimates,  and  none  of  his 
contemporaries,  testified  that  this  man  was  the  author  of  these 
works." 

This  is  a  vigorous  beginning,  and  perhaps  such  all- 
embracing  assertions  would  have  been  all  the  better  for 
a  little  restraint  and  modification.  However,  he  goes  on 
to  say  : 

"  Halliwell-Phillipps  is  the  greatest  authority  on  the  subject 
of  William  Shakespeare  by  consent  of  all  Shakespearians.  His 
two  large  volumes  comprise  nine  hundred  pages, — and,  after  all, 
striking  out  some  few  elegiac  verses  or  eulogies  from  the  beginning 
of  the  successive  folio  editions  of  the  Plays  .  .  .  there  is  not  one 
line  in  the  whole  work  that  identifies  William  Shaksper  as  the 
author  of  the  poems  and  plays — not  one  line.  We  are  made  to 
know  about  him  in  every  aspect  but  that  of  author,  and  there 
history  is  silent." 

Next  he  comes  to  his  main  point  concerning  Shaksper 
not  being  Shakespeare. 

"  The  name  Shakespeare  is  quite  another  etymologically  and 
orthographically  from  Shagsper  or  Shakspere,  or  Shaxpeyr  or 
Shaxper.  It  is  not  in  evidence  that  any  author  lived  in  the  age 
of  Elizabeth  whose  family  and  baptismal  name  was  William 
Shakespeare  or  Shake-speare.  There  is  no  such  historical  man — 
no  individual  known  who  bore  that  name ;  and  the  inference  is 
fair  that  the  name  as  printed  upon  certain  poems  and  plays  was 
a  pseudonym,  like  that  of  '  Mark  Twain,'  or  of  *  George  Eliot.' " 

A  very  great  deal  of  what  this  writer  says  in  his 
500  pages  is,  I  am  afraid,  below  criticism,  for  he  is  very 
careless  and  inaccurate  in  his  assertions ;  and  R.  L. 
Ashhurst,  who  is  Vice-Dean  of  the  Shakspere  Society  of 
Philadelphia,  read  before  that  Society  (Jan.  23,  1901) 
"  Some  Remarks  "  on  this  book,  and  certainty  proves 
the  author's  sins  of  omission  and  commission  and  reckless 
assertion  to  be  very  numerous.      But   the  remarkable 


THE   HYPHEN  283 

thing  in  connection  with  the  Vice-Dean's  paper  is  that 
with  regard  to  the  spelling  of  the  name  "  Shaksper  not 
Shakespeare,"  which  is  one  of  the  main  points  of  the 
book,  and  its  only  title.  Mr.  Ashhurst  begins  by  saying  : 
"  Tradition  gives  us  as  the  author  of  these  Plays  William 
Shakspere — /  care  nothing  about  the  spelling — an  actor  at 
the  Globe  Theatre,  &c."  I  hardly  remember  a  cooler 
instance  of  passing  or  slurring  over  the  main  point  of  the 
very  book  which  the  lecturer  set  himself  to  criticise. 

Personally,  I  think  there  is  a  good  deal  in  this  peculiar 
change  into  Shake-speare,  and  that  it  points  to  a  "  con- 
cealed personality "  who  was  very  different  both  by 
culture  and  position  from  the  Stratford  player.  I  believe 
that  Shake-speare  was  a  man  who  had  sought  "  in  a 
despised  weed  the  good  of  all  men,"  and  had  tried  his 
best  to  shake  a  spear  at  Ignorance,  which  can  hardly 
be  said  of  the  Stratford  Shaksper,  who  brought  up  some 
of  his  family  in  such  ignorance  that  they  could  not  write 
their  own  names. 

Mr.  Edwards  further  thinks  that  Shaksper  the  player 

went  back  to  Stratford  because  "  he  liked  the  sort  of 

people  who  lived  there  and  the  life  they  led,  and  would 

have  been  utterly  out  of  place  in  a  genteel  or  cultivated 

community."     He  adds  :    "  Shaksper  is  never  reported 

to  have  been  seen  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  or  as  having 

owned  or  read  one,  nor  as  seen  writing  poems  or  plays, 

or  as  having  talked  about  such  works,  or  as  engaged  in 

literary  occupation  of  any  description."     He  asks  also 

how  Shaksper  could  got  a  vocabulary  of  15,000  to  20,000 

words,  and  quotes  the  following  to  show  the  meanness  of 

the  man  :    "In  the  Chamberlain's  accounts  of  Stratford 

is  found  a  charge,  in  1614,  for  one  quart  of  sack  and  one 

quart  of  claret  wine,  given  to  a  preacher  at  the  New 

Place  (Shaksper's  own  house).     What  manner  of  man 

must  he  have  been  who  would  require  the  town  to  pay 

for  the  wine  furnished  to  his  guests  ?     What,"  he  asks, 

"  would  a  Virginian  think  of  a  man  who  charged  a  visiting 

preacher's  whiskey  to  the  county  ?  "     And  so  he  goes  on 

for  nearly  500  pages,  often  not  altogether  accurate  in  his 


284  PALLAS   SHAKE-SPEARE 

assertions  or  inferences,  but  he  writes  forcibly  enough  for 
the  man  in  the  street,  and  sums  up  without  mentioning 
Bacon,  as  he  does  not  come  into  his  Hne  of  argument. 
This  book  is  the  last  from  America  (excluding  Mrs.  Gallup), 
and  that  is  the  reason  I  have  introduced  it  to  my  readers, 
so  that  they  may  hear  le  dernier  mot  from  that  quarter 
and  the  line  taken.  It  contains  most  of  the  stock  argu- 
ments against  the  possibility  of  the  Stratford  man  writing 
the  Plays,  but  is  not  equal  in  lucidity  and  arrangement 
to  Judge  Webb's  Mystery  of  William  Shakespeare,  which 
is  the  latest  and  best  on  our  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

Before  quite  leaving  the  Shake-speare  or  lance- 
brandishing  problem,  I  will  bring  forward  some  little  dis- 
coveries of  my  own.  I  do  not  attach  much  importance 
to  them,  but  there  is  this  in  their  favour — they  are  per- 
fectly new  in  the  way  of  evidence. 

Here  is  a  sonnet  addressed  to  Francis  Bacon  in  1595 
or  1596,  which  has  never  been  in  print  before,  and  which 
was  preserved  by  his  brother  Anthony.  It  is  rather 
important  for  one  word  which  may  refer  to  the  Shake- 
speare authorship. 

A  Monsieur  FRAN901S  Bacon. 
Sonnet. 

Ce  qu'inspire  du  Ciel,  et  plein  d'affection 

Je  comble  si  souvent  ma  bouche,  et  ma  poitrine 
Du  sacre  Nom  fameus  de  ta  Royne  divine 
Ses  valeurs  en  sont  cause  et  sa  perfection 

Si  ce  siecle  de  fer  si  mainte  Nation 

Ingratte  a  ses  honneurs,  n'avait  I'ame  ^mantine  : 
Ravis  de  ce  beau  Nom,  qu'aus  Graces  je  destine 
Avec  eus  nous  I'aurions  en  admiration. 

Done  (Baccon)  s'il  advient  que  ma  Muse  Ton  vante 
Ce  n'est  pas  qu'elle  soit  ou  diserte,  ou  s^avante  : 
Bien  que  vostre  Pallas  me  rende  mieus  instruit 

C'est  pource  que  mon  Lut  chant  sa  gloire  sainte 
Ou  qu'en  ces  vers  nayfz  son  Image  est  emprainte  : 
Ou  que  ta  vertu  claire  en  mon  ombre  reluit. 

—La  Jessee. 

This  sonnet,  which  is  at  the  Lambeth  Archiepiscopal 
Library,  was  overlooked  both  by  Birch  and  Spedding,  or 


FRENCH    EVIDENCE  285 

perhaps,  I  should  say,  passed  over  by  them  as  containing 
nothing  of  historical  interest.     However,  for  a  certain 
reason  I  have  thought  it  worth  transcription.     La  Jessee, 
who  signs  as  responsible  for  the  sonnet,  was  not  a  lady, 
as  one  might  suppose  at  first  sight,  but  was,  as  I  take  it, 
Jean  de  la  Jessee,  who  was  secretaire  de  la  chambre  to  that 
Francis,  Duke  of  Anjou,  who  was  so  long  a  suitor  for  Queen 
Elizabeth  (1570-1581).     Most  likely  it  was  while  Bacon 
was  in  France  in  the  English  ambassador's  suite  (1576- 
1579)  that  he  made  acquaintance  with  La  Jessee.     He 
was  a  man  evidently  fond  of  the  Muses,  for  he  wrote 
many  sonnets  to  friends  and  patrons,  published  at  Antwerp 
in   1582  in  four  volumes  quarto.     What  the  Duke  of 
Anjou's  private  secretary  seems  to  wish  to  convey  to 
Bacon  is  this — that  his  own  Muse,  prolific  as  it  was,  was 
not  a  learned  or  eloquent  one,  but  that  Bacon's  Pallas 
had  taught  it  better  how  to  speak.     Now,  Pallas  was 
not  one  of  the  Muses,  nor  had  Pallas  anything  to  do  with 
law  ;  what  could  Bacon  have  to  do  with  her  ?     Well,  she 
sprang  fully  armed  from  the  head  of  Jove;  she  was  a 
learned  goddess ;  she  was  Hastivibrans,  a  Shaker  of  the 
Spear  or  Lance ;  and  she  had  a  vanquished  serpent  (Ignor- 
ance ?)  at  her  feet  in  Greek  sculpture.    With  the  ancient 
Greeks  she  was  looked  upon  as  the  protectress  and  pre- 
server of  the  state;  she  was  the  personification  of  what 
the  Romans  called  Prudentia  Civilis,  and  what  we  call 
Political  Science.     Bacon  set  himself  to  be  an  adept  at 
this.     Can  this  partly  explain  why  Bacon  called  himself 
Shake-speare  ? 

La  Jessee  wrote  both  in  French  and  Latin,  and  I  find 
sonnets  to  Seigneur  PoUet,*  ambassadeur  d'Angleterre, 
to  the  King  of  Navarre,  and  to  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  so 
we  may  conclude  on  several  grounds  that  the  Duke  of 
Anjou's  secretary  was  fairly  acquainted  with  court  life 
and  court  fashions  in  England. 

This  French  sonnet  to  Frangois  Bacon,  from  its  position 
in  the  bound-up  volumes  of  Anthony  Bacon's  MSS.,  seems 

*  This  was  the  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  in  whose  train  young  Francis  Bacon  went 
to  France  for  nearly  three  years  (1576-1579). 


286  PALLAS   SHAKE-SPEARE 

to  have  been  written  about  1595  or  1596,  and  at  that  date 
the  famous  Essays  of  Francis  Bacon  had  not  been  pub- 
lished, nor  had  any  Hterary  work  of  much  significance 
been  put  forth  by  him,  so  the  expression  vostre  Pallas 
does  not  seem  appropriate,  as  nothing  hke  a  Pallas  fully 
armed  had  sprung  from  Bacon's  great  brain  yet,  as  far 
as  the  world  of  letters  knew. 

But  while  pondering  on  what  La  Jessee's  reference  to 
Bacon's  Pallas  (vostre  Pallas)  could  possibly  mean,  I 
fortunately  struck  upon  a  clue  to  which  I  attach  con- 
siderable importance,  and  if  a  right  clue,  it  leads  to  the 
key  which  will  perhaps  unlock  the  mystery  of  that 
hyphenated  and  strangely-spelled  word  Shake-speare, 
which  is  quite  different  from  any  of  the  player's  usual 
signatures,  and  only  appears  hyphenated  on  certain  title- 
pages  and  dedications  and  signatures  to  Poems  [The 
Phoenix  and  the  Turtle)  in  the  prefatory  matter  by  Ben 
Jonson  and  others  of  the  first  folio,  and  in  Willobie's  Avisa, 
1594.  The  clue  is  this  :  Pallas  is  referred  to  in  a  remark- 
able paper,  without  heading,  docket,  or  date,  found  in  the 
Lambeth  collection  ;  which  paper  is  further  proved  by 
some  notes  and  portions  of  the  rough  draft  still  extant 
in  Bacon's  handwriting  to  be  of  his  composition.  It  is 
clearly  a  part  of  one  of  the  Devices  which  Bacon  was  so 
clever  and  ready  in  contriving.  It  seems  to  have  been 
a  sequel  to  some  former  Device  of  the  same  kind,  in  which 
Philautia,  the  goddess  of  Self-Love,  had  been  represented 
as  addressing  some  persuasion  to  the  Queen,  and  is  in 
the  form  of  a  letter  (in  Bacon's  handwriting,  and  with 
his  notes  for  Essex  written  in  the  margin  !)  to  the  Queen. 
This  letter  was  most  likely  intended  to  come  into  the 
Device  at  the  point  where  the  ambassadors  introduce 
themselves  by  delivering  it  to  the  Queen.  It  is  so  im- 
portant for  the  solution  of  The  Mystery  of  William  Shake- 
speare, that  I  must  quote  it  at  length. 

"Excellent   Queen,    Making  report    to   Pallas,    upon   whom 
Philautia  depends,*  of  my  last  audience  with  your  Majesty  and  of 

*  Frustra  sapit,  qui  sibinut  sapit. 


AN   ESSEX   DEVICE  287 

the  opposition  I  found  by  the  feigning  tongue  of  a  disguised  Squire, 
and  also  of  the  inclination  of  countenance  and  ear  which  I  dis- 
cerned in  your  Majesty  rather  towards  my  ground  than  to  his 
voluntary,  the  Goddess  allowed  well  of  my  endeavour  and  said  no 
more  at  that  time.  But  few  days  since  she  called  me  to  her,  and 
told  me  that  my  persuasions  had  done  good,*  yet  that  it  was  not 
amiss  to  refresh  them.  I  attending  in  silence  her  furder  pleasure, 
after  a  little  pause  putting  her  shield  before  her  eyes  as  she  useth 
when  she  studieth  to  resolve.  Better  (said  she)  raise  the  siege 
than  send  continual  succours,  and  that  may  be  done  by  stratagem. 
This,  Philautia,  shall  you  do.  Address  yourself  to  Erophilus. 
You  know  the  rest :  we  shall  see  what  answer  or  invention  the 
Goddess  of  fools  (so  many  times  she  will  call  Jupiter's  fair 
daughter)  will  provide  for  him  against  your  assailings.  And  then 
the  alone  Queen  f  (so  she  ever  terms  your  Majesty)  will  see  that 
she  hath  had  Philautia's  first  offer,  and  that  if  she  reject  it,  it  will 
be  received  elsewhere  to  her  disadvantage.  And  upon  my  humble 
reverence  to  depart  she  cleared  her  countenance,  and  said.  The 
time  makes  for  you.  |  I  gladly  received  her  instructions.  Only 
because  I  had  negotiated  with  your  Majesty  myself  I  would  not 
vouchsafe  to  deal  with  an  inferior  in  person  :  but  I  have  put 
them  in  commission  that  your  Majesty  will  see  can  very  well 
acquit  themselves ;  and  will  at  least  make  you  sport,  which 
Philautia  for  a  vale  desireth  you  to  contrive  out  of  all  others' 
earnest,  and  so  kisseth  your  serene  hands,  and  rested, — Your 
Majesty's  faithful  remembrancer,  Philautia." 

Then  follows  the  beginning  of  the  speech  of  the  Hermit 
— a  first  draft  only ;  it  was  afterwards  entirely  rewritten, 
and  is  extant  in  another  part  of  the  same  MS.  volumes, 
viz.,  in  the  Gibson  Papers,  vol.  v.  No.  118. 

Now  this  rough  draft  of  Bacon's  composition  was 
intended  solely  for  the  eyes  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who  was 
the  supposed  author  of  the  Device,  and  obtained  apparently 
the  whole  credit  for  it  from  his  contemporaries.  Bacon's 
name  seems  quite  kept  out  of  our  accounts  of  the  Device, 

*  That  your  Lordship  knoweth  whether  the  Queen  have  profited  in 
Self-Love. 

t  I  pray  God  she  be  not  too  much  alone,  but  it  is  a  name  of  excellency 
and  virginity. 

X  That  your  Lordship  knoweth,  and  I  in  part,  in  regard  of  the  Queen's 
unkind  dealing,  which  may  persuade  you  to  self-love. 


288  PALLAS   SHAKE-SPEARE 

and  unless  these  autograph  MSS.  had  been  preserved  and 
discovered,  we  should  never  have  been  sure  that  these 
parts  of  the  Device  were  of  his  work  and  not  by  Essex. 

Let  us  consider  this  important  letter  from  Philautia 
to  the  Queen  in  Essex's  Device  of  1595  a  little  more  in 
detail.     Now  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  letter  or  address 
we  find  that  it  is  Pallas  who    is    the  real  framer  and 
originator  of  the  advice  to  the  Queen,  and  consequently 
Pallas  stands  for  Bacon.     Philautia  depends  upon  him, 
and  we  may  see  in  Bacon's  marginal  note  for  Essex's  eye 
a  semi-apology  to  the  noble  lord  through  the  proverbial 
hint,  Frustra  sapit  qui  sihimet  sapit,  i.e.    It  is  not  always 
wisdom  to  trust  to  your  own  devices  alone.     Further  on 
we  are  told  of  Pallas  that  when  she  resolveth  doubtful 
points  she  puts  her  shield  before  her  eyes,  which  rather 
reminds  us  of  the  thoughtful  Francis  sitting  in  his  arm- 
chair and  cogitating,  with  his  uplifted  arm  supporting 
his  head  ;   sic  sedehat.     Then  the  allusion  to  the  Goddess 
of  Fools,  Jupiter's  fair  daughter,   by  whom   I   suppose 
Venus  is  meant,  is  more  in  the  vein  of  Bacon  than  it  is 
of  the  classic  Pallas  who  uses  the  slighting  expression. 
Bacon  was  strongly  of  the  opinion  of  Publius  Syrus  that 
amare  et  sapere  vix  Deo  conceditur,  or,  as  he  puts  it  in  his 
Essay  Of  Love,  "  It  is  impossible  to  love  and  be  wise," 
and  elsewhere  frequently,  as  well  as  in  the  Sonnets  and 
Plays.     Then  we  are  told  that  Pallas-Bacon  "  ever  terms  " 
her  Majesty  Queen  Elizabeth  "  the  alone  Queen,"  and 
that  "it  is  a  name  of  excellency  and  virginity."     Again 
our  thoughts  go  to  that  strange  poem.  The  Phoenix  and 
the  Turtle,  written  and  signed  by  William  Shake-spear e, 
where  the  best  scholars  are  agreed  that  the  Phoenix  = 
Elizabeth  and  the  Turtle  =  Essex,  and  we  remember  the 

Threnos  : 

"  Leaving  no  posterity — 
'Twas  not  their  infirmity, 
It  was  married  chastity." 

Also  the  bird,  "  On  the  sole  Arabian  Tree,"  and  it  looks 
as  if  Shake-speare  might  be  the  Pallas  of  the  Essex  Device. 
Moreover,  the  name  Pallas  was  given  airo  to  iraXkeLv  to 


THE   SPEAR-SHAKER  289 

Sopv,  that  is,  because  she  was  wont  to  shake  her  spear e  as 
Servius  the  schoHast  in  Mneid,  i.  43,  tells  us.  She  was  pro- 
duced from  Jove's  head,  because  Wit  or  Intellect  comes  from 
the  head,  and  she  presided  over  the  arts  because  nothing 
excels  wit  or  wisdom  in  the  supreme  rule  of  all  the  arts. 

Thus  Pallas,  Bacon,  and  Shake-speare  seem  to  be 
intimately  connected  with  each  other,  and  the  easiest 
solution  of  the  mystery  is  that  they  are  all  different 
names  of  one  man.  William  Shake-speare  first  appears 
in  Venus  and  Adonis  (1593),  and  in  Lucrece  (1594),  where 
Bacon  shows  his  head.  Pallas  first  appears  in  the  Essex 
Device  of  1595,  where  we  know  Bacon  helped,  but  there 
was  an  earlier  Essex  Device  in  1592,  where  Bacon  also 
supplied  speeches,  and  so  Pallas  may  have  appeared 
earlier  and  the  account  of  her  part  in  the  proceedings 
may  have  been  lost.  Anyhow,  we  have  not  sufficient 
materials  to  decide  whether  the  pseudonym  Shake-speare 
was  borrowed  by  Bacon  from  Shakspere  the  player,  or 
from  Pallas  the  spear-shaking  Goddess  of  Wit,  who  was 
the  representative  of  Bacon  in  early  Devices  prepared 
for  the  Queen.  Which  appellation  was  used  first  we 
cannot  say,  but  we  are  justified,  I  think,  in  asserting 
that  the  remarkable  fashion  in  which  Pallas,  Bacon,  and 
Shake-speare  are  all  mixed  up  and  connected  with  the 
Devices  of  Essex,  now  known  to  be  written  by  Bacon, 
and  with  the  Poems  and  Plays  attributed  to  William 
Shakspere,  or  Shacksper,  of  Stratford,  all  goes  to  prove 
that  Pallas  and  Shake-speare  were  identical  names  for 
that  one  man  Francis  Bacon  who  showed  "  his  head  "  in 
Lucrece,  and  gave  us  some  peculiar  autobiographical 
selections  in  Shake-speares  Sonnets. 

I  do  not  think  that  Baconians  are  at  all  acquainted 
with  this  little  piece  of  Pallas-Shake-speare  evidence,  but 
it  is  further  borne  out  by  some  evidence  that  they  know 
thoroughly,  and  that  is  in  Ben  Jonson's  famous  lines 
before  the  beginning  of  the  first  folio,  where  he  speaks 
of  the  "  well-torn^d  and  true-filed  lines  "  of  the  great  poet : 

"  In  each  of  which  he  seems  to  shake  a  lance, 
As  brandish'd  at  the  eyes  of  ignorance." 

T 


290         SHAKESPEARE   THE   INSTRUMENT 

Many  Baconians  also  make  much  of  certain  printers' 
head-pieces  in  the  first  foHo  and  elsewhere,  in  which  they 
see  Wisdom  under  a  mask  shaking  a  Lance  at  Ignorance. 
Why  Bacon  should  use  the  name  of  Shakespeare  for 
the  signature  of  the  dedications  of  the  first  and  second 
heirs  of  his  invention,  while  his  own  name  and  cipher 
was  so  designedly  inserted  in  the  second  heir,  Lucrece, 
we  can  only  explain  by  the  reason  that  he  wished  to 
conceal  his  own  personality,  but  yet  to  keep  a  proof  in 
the  poem  itself  that  it  was  really  his.  He  had  to  take 
some  mask,  and  he  took  Shake-speare,  which  would  stand 
for  Pallas  as  well  as  the  Stratford  man.  There  is  just  a 
possibility  that  he  did  not  think  of  Shakspere  the  player 
at  all  at  first  in  159 1  ;  but  in  1597,  when  scandal  and 
treason  were  being  attached  to  his  name,  he  may  then 
have  seen  how  useful  an  instrument  the  man  William 
Shakespere  would  be,  both  by  name  and  position,  for  the 
purpose  of  withdrawing  attention  from  himself  and  fixing 
it  on  the  Johannes  Factotum  of  the  stage  plays.  This 
surmise  is  helped  by  the  fact  that  Bacon  says  in  one  of 
his  Essays  (xlvii.)  :  "In  choice  of  Instruments  it  is 
better  to  choose  men  of  a  plainer  sort.  .  .  .  Use  also 
such  persons  as  affect  the  Business  wherein  they  are 
employed,  for  that  quickeneth  much."  * 

Anyhow,  the  peculiar  form  Shake-speare  appears  very 
early.  In  one  of  the  earliest  known  praises  of  Shake- 
speare the  name  has  the  strange  and  suggestive  hyphen. 
Lucrece  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  9th  May  1594, 
and  Willobie's  Avisa  was  entered  3rd  Sept.  1594.     So 

*  I  may  here  say  that  this  remark  of  Bacon  seems  a  sufficient  answer  to 
what  is  called  "  the  crucial  question  which  Baconians  habitually  avoid."  The 
orthodox  party  puts  this  boasted  crux  of  theirs  in  the  following  terms  :  "  How 
came  it  that  Bacon,  of  mighty  brain  power  and  of  universal  knowledge,  when 
seeking  to  conceal  his  prodigious  authorship  as  a  poet,  chose  for  his  counterfeit 
representative  the  ignorant  William  Shakespeare,  whose  weak  pretence  in  the 
rdle  would  have  at  once  been  exposed  and  ridiculed?  How  is  it  possible  to 
suppose  that  a  man  like  Bacon  could  have  been  for  a  moment  such  a  fool  as 
thus  to  give  himself  away  in  public  ?  Only  a  giant  can  wear  giants'  shoes. 
How  therefore  could  Bacon  have  wrecked  his  own  scheme  by  committing  his 
shoes  to  the  feet  of  the  pigmy  Shakespeare  ?  "  This  is  no  crux.  Shakespeare 
was  just  the  Instrument  for  Bacon,  and  not  such  a  pigmy  after  all. 


BACON   THE   SORCERER  291 

this  praise  of  Shake-spear e  must  have  been  worked  into 
the  Avisa  very  shortly  after  Lucrece  appeared.  The 
inference  is  that  the  author  of  the  Avisa  was  some  one 
who  took  special  interest  in  Lucrece  and  its  author. 
What  a  pity  he  said  so  little.  He  signs  himself  Contraria 
Contrariis  Vigilantius :  Dormitanus,  a  possible  key,  but 
I  can  make  nothing  of  it.  I  note,  however,  that  A.  M. 
(Anthony  Munday  ?)  translated  from  the  French  in  1593 
The  Defence  of  Contraries,  and  A.  M.  was  mixed  up  in 
literary  prefaces  and  other  matters  with  the  Bacons. 
Was  this  early  notice  of  Shake-speare  from  Anthony 
Munday  ?  He  would  know  about  Pallas  and  Court 
Devices. 

Moreover,  Bacon  tells  us  in  his  Essays  that  the 
"  monstrous  Fable  "  of  Jove  "  being  delivered  of  Pallas 
Armed  out  of  his  Head  .  .  .  containeth  a  Secret  of 
Empire ;  how  Kings  are  to  make  use  of  their  Counsel 
of  State."  Now  we  know  that  Bacon  when  quite  a 
young  man  in  1584-5,  or  at  about  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  addressed  a  treatise  to  the  Queen  entitled  Advice 
to  Queen  Elizabeth.  This  was  taking  the  office  of  Pallas 
very  early,  and  becoming  one  of  the  "  Counsel  of  State  " 
before  being  called  to  the  office.  This  early  work  of 
Bacon's  leads  me  to  think  that  he  assumed  or  received 
the  appellation  of  Pallas  before  he  adopted  the  literary 
disguise  of  Shake-speare,  which  is  so  nearly  synonymous. 

We  have  no  evidence  to  show  that  Bacon  would  be 
brought  into  any  public  connection  with  Shaksper  the 
player  from  Stratford  much  before  the  Gesta  Grayorum 
of  1594,  when  the  players  gave  a  ''  Comedy  of  Errors  " 
at  Gray's  Inn,  and  there  was  so  much  confusion  and 
crowding  of  the  audience  upon  the  stage,  that  the  grand 
performance  turned  out  a  great  failure.  Bacon  was  a 
leading  spirit  at  this  function,  although  his  name  as  usual 
is  singularly  kept  in  the  background,  and  allusion  is  only 
made  to  a  certain  "  sorcerer  *  or  conjurer  that  was 
supposed  to  be  the  cause  of  that  confused  inconvenience," 
who  is  taken  to  be  Bacon.     As  Venus  and  Adonis  was 

*  A  side  hit,  perhaps,  at  Roger  Bacon, 


292  THE   "GESTA   GRAYORUM" 

signed  William  Shakespeare  in  1593,  Bacon  and  South- 
ampton, both  members  of  Gray's  Inn,  would  seem  to 
have  known  the  player  before  the  Gesta  Gray  or  um  incident, 
and  Bacon  must  have  arranged  in  some  way  for  the  use 
of  the  player's  name  to  cover  such  literary  work  as  the 
rising  lawyer  of  Gray's  Inn  wished  to  keep  behind  a 
screen.  Pallas-Bacon  who  could  not  pass  a  jest  then 
dubbed  himself  Shake-speare,  and  sometimes  even  more 
pointedly  wrote  himself  down  as  the  hyphenated  Shake- 
speare, which  certainly  ought  to  have  suggested  Pallas 
to  any  University  man.  I  have  no  doubt  Meres  knew  it 
well  enough.  But  I  will  not  pursue  this  Pallas-Shake- 
speare question  any  further.  It  will  be  quite  enough  for 
my  purpose  if  I  have  succeeded  in  rendering  it  highly 
probable  that  in  many  cases  that  magic  name  Shake-speare 
belongs  to  Pallas-Bacon  rather  than  to  Shaksper  of 
Stratford. 

I  have  also  discovered  a  large  amount  of  curious 
evidence  connecting  Bacon  with  Pallas,  and  with  some 
important  Elizabethan  books  where  no  one  has  up  to  the 
present  suspected  his  intervention.  It  is  already  in  MS., 
but  is  far  too  voluminous  to  add  to  the  present  work  ; 
but  if  my  arguments  and  views  so  far  meet  with  a  favour- 
able acceptance,  I  shall  venture  to  offer  in  a  small  sepa- 
rate volume  these  new,  and  to  me  most  unexpected, 
revelations. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SOME  NOTABLE  MEGALOMANIC  FEATURES  IN  THE 
CHARACTER  OF  FRANCIS  BACON 

Another  favourite  argument  against  the  Bacon  theory 
is,  that  Bacon  had  not  time  to  write  the  Plays  of  Shake- 
speare even  if  he  had  the  abiUty.  This  argument  will 
hardly  stand  against  the  known  facts  of  Bacon's  life. 
He  said  himself,  and  he  had  a  right  to  his  boast,  "  though 
the  world  hath  taken  my  talent  from  me,  yet  God's  talent 
I  put  to  use."     As  Professor  John  Nichol  says  : 

"An  activity  so  unparalleled  neither  the  cares  of  office,  nor 
illness,  nor  vexation  of  spirit,  nor  the  shadow  of  disgrace,  or  of 
age,  could  impede.  His  work  as  a  lawyer  and  statesman  would 
have  filled  a  life  had  not  his  labours  as  a  philosopher  and  man 
of  letters  been  sufficient  to  adorn  it.  With  an  energy  like  that 
of  Scott  after  his  ruin,  he  set  himself  to  add  fresh  tiers  to  his 
enduring  monument." 

During  the  decade  1580  to  1590  we  do  not  know  very 

much  how  he  spent  his  spare  time,  and  first  and  last  he 

must  have  had  a  great  deal  of  time  to  himself  in  these 

years.     He   showed   himself   an   amateur   and  youthful 

Pallas  in  giving  counsel  of  state  to  Queen  Elizabeth  in 

his  letter  of  advice,  and  even  as  early  as  this  "  his  Pallas  " 

would  put  her  shield  before  her  face  and  consider  the 

state  of  Europe  and  the  national  policy  of  England,  and 

the   religious   controversies   of   the   kingdom.     I   would 

suggest  that  he  occupied  his  spare  time  in  filling  many 

commonplace  books  with  collections  made  in  the  course 

of  his  reading  ;   jottings,  examples,  similes,  phrases,  &c., 

which  he  laid  as  a  kind  of   foundation  for  the  literary 

edifices  he  was  afterwards  to  build,  or  gathered  together 

293 


294        BACON'S  VAST   SELF-CONFIDENCE 

in  a  storehouse  whence  they  could  afterwards  be  drawn 
forth  to  meet  his  requirements.  The  Promus  is  one  of 
these  which  has  been  fortunately  preserved  ;  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  he  had  others  as  well.  Some- 
times I  think  that  part  of  these  collections  got  incorporated 
in  some  way  in  the  Palladis  Tamia  of  Francis  Meres,  and 
in  the  Palladis  Palatium  of  William  Wrednot ;  but  we 
are  not  likely  to  get  behind  the  scenes  after  this  long 
interval  of  time.  Anyhow,  we  may  safely  say  that  the 
great  Francis  was  no  drone  at  any  period  of  his  life.  He 
was  too  much  of  a  megalomane  to  be  ever  inactive,  especi- 
ally in  his  mind,  which  was  so  full  of  grand  projects  from 
his  earliest  days. 

He  felt  himself  to  be  the  Pallas  of  the  age,  sprung 
from  the  brain  of  Jove,  and  equipped  for  a  champion 
against  ignorance,  and  the  defender  and  adviser,  by  his 
well-conceived  counsel,  of  the  commonwealth  and  its 
policy.  Like  most  great  men  he  thoroughly  believed  in 
himself,  in  his  powers  and  in  his  projects — all  he  wanted 
to  make  them  effective  was  money  and  position  ;  they 
were  the  sinews  of  war  to  him  in  his  philanthropic  designs 
to  get  the  mastery  over  Nature  in  the  interests  of  Man, 
and  he  damaged  his  fair  fame  in  the  attempt  to  procure 
these  necessary  adjuncts. 

In  spite  of  constant  failure,  he  never  lost  his  belief 
in  himself.  He  thought  he  could  win  the  Queen  for  this 
man,  or  for  that  man,  or  for  himself ;  he  thought  he  could 
persuade  Cecil,  and  he  looked  forward  to  the  time  when 
he  should  be  a  better  man  than  Coke,  his  constant  enemy. 
No  failure  seemed  to  discourage  him — the  true  sign  of  a 
megalomane.  His  Pallas  was  always  ready  to  advise  any 
great  state  personage,  or  to  write  letters  to  or  for  such 
personages,  or  to  write  letters  to  Kings  and  Queens,  or 
to  devise  communications  that  might  most  likely  come 
to  their  knowledge.  He  seemed  always  sanguine  and 
confident,  and  when  the  great  fall  came,  nothing,  as  Ben 
Jonson  says,  could  diminish  his  true  greatness,  for  that 
*'  could  never  fail  him."  He  was  magnificent  in  nearly 
all  his  ways  and  projects — magnificent  in  his  expenditure 


BACON'S  SELF-ASSERTION  295 

and  love  of  show,  in  his  marriage-robes  of  imperial  purple 
from  head  to  foot,  in  his  Greatest  Birth  of  Time,  his  first 
work — magnificent  in  his  own  estimation  of  his  later 
philosophical  works,  which,  as  he  told  King  James  in  the 
preface,  had  in  them  that  which  was  "  fixed "  and 
"  eternal " — a  striking  echo,  as  it  seems  to  me,  of  those 
magnificent  and  magniloquent  lines  of  the  Shake-speare 
Sonnets  written  in  the  passionate  fervour  of  earlier  ddcys  : 

"  But  thy  eternal  summer  shall  not  fade, 
Nor  lose  possession  of  that  fair  thou  ow'st ; 
Nor  shall  Death  brag  thou  wander'st  in  his  shade 
When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  grow'st  : 

So  long  as  men  can  breathe,  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee." 

— Sonnet  XVIIL 

And  again  : 

"  Nor  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 
Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme. 

Nor  Mars  his  sword  nor  war's  quick  fire  shall  burn 

The  living  record  of  your  memory. 
'Gainst  death  and  all-oblivious  enmity 

Shall  you  pace  forth  ;  your  praise  shall  still  find  room. 

Even  in  the  eyes  of  all  posterity 

That  wear  this  world  out  to  the  ending  doom. 
So,  till  the  judgment  that  yourself  arise, 
You  live  in  this,  and  dwell  in  lovers'  eyes." 

And  again  in  Sonnet  cxiv.  : 

"  O,  'tis  the  first ;  'tis  flattery  in  my  seeing, 
And  my  great  mind  7nost  kingly  drinks  it  upP 

Surely  such  magnificent  self-assertion  is  very  un- 
common in  literature,  and,  so  to  speak,  marks  out  a  man 
from  his  fellows.  I  know  Elizabethan  sonneteers  often 
claimed  eternity  of  fame,  but  never  in  such  lofty  phrase 
as  this.  But  this  was  Bacon's  style  exactly  ;  he  had 
the  "  'Ercles  vein  "  if  any  man  ever  had.  As  Dean  Church 
says  of  him  :  "  He  never  affected  to  conceal  from  himself 
his  superiority  to  other  men  in  his  aims  and  in  the  grasp 
of  his  intelligence."     Look  too  at  the  magisterial  and 


296  BACON'S   MAGNIFICENCE 

almost  almighty  manner  in  which  he  begins  one  of  his 
works  :  Francis  of  Verulam  thought  thus,  and  such  is  the 
method  which  he  within  himself  pursued,  which  he  thought 
it  concerned  both  the  living  and  posterity  to  become  acquainted 
with.  Surely  here  is  the  writer  of  the  magnifical  Sonnets. 
Surely  such  self-confidence  as  we  find  in  the  Sonnets 
cannot  be  the  work  or  utterance  of  the  man  of  Stratford, 
or  we  should  have  heard  more  of  the  Poet-ape  asserting 
himself  in  the  world  of  letters,  and  building  a  niche  for 
himself  in  the  Temple  of  Fame.  Would  a  man  with  such 
a  consciousness  of  eternal  superiority  over  his  fellows 
desert,  in  the  early  ripeness  of  his  career,  the  very  stage 
and  theatre  of  his  triumphs  to  hide  himself  away  in  the 
commonplace  society  of  Stratford,  to  brew  beer  and  to 
lend  money  ?  No  ;  a  man  with  such  an  opinion  of  his 
own  merits  would  have  looked  well  after  the  recognition 
of  them,  both  in  the  present  and  in  the  future,  as  did 
that  magnificent  megalomane  Francis  Bacon,  both  in  youth 
and  maturity. 

Consider  Francis  Bacon  on  the  day  of  his  wedding. 
He  was  indeed  a  great  man  then — if  not  born  in  the 
"purple  "  he  was  married  in  it.  This  is  what  a  contem- 
porary letter  says  : 

"  Sir  Francis  Bacon  was  married  yesterday  to  his  young  wench 
in  Maribone  Chapel.  He  was  clad  from  top  to  toe  in  purple,  and 
hath  made  himself  and  his  wife  such  store  of  fine  raiments  of 
cloth  of  silver  and  gold  that  it  draws  deep  into  her  portion.  .  .  . 
His  chief  guests  were  the  three  knights,  Cope,  Hicks,  and 
Beeston  ;  and  upon  this  conceit  (as  he  said  himself)  that  since  he 
could  not  have  my  Lord  of  Salisbury  in  person,  which  he  wished, 
he  would  have  him  at  least  in  his  representative  body."  * 

Compare  this  with  the  more  modern  description  by 
Hepworth  Dixon  : 

"  Feathers  and  lace  light  up  the  rooms  in  the  Strand.  Cecil 
has  been  warmly  urged  to  come  over  from  Salisbury  House. 
Three  of  his  gentlemen,  Sir  Walter  Cope,  Sir  Baptist  Hicks,  and 

*  Carleton  to  Chamberlain,  nth  April  1606;  Domestic  Papers,  James  I., 
1606. 


HEPWORTH    DIXON'S   VIEW!  297 

Sir  Hugh  Beeston,  hard  drinkers  and  men  about  town,  strut  over 
in  his  stead,  flaunting  in  their  swords  and  plumes ;  yet  the  pro- 
digal bridegroom,  sumptuous  in  his  tastes  as  in  his  genius,  clad 
in  a  suit  of  Genoese  velvet,  purple  from  cap  to  shoe,  outbraves 
them  all ;  the  bride,  too,  is  richly  dight,  her  whole  dowry  seeming 
to  be  piled  up  on  her  in  cloth  of  silver  and  ornaments  of  gold." 

Here  we  have  an  amusing  specimen  of  what  the 
joumaUstic  spirit  can  produce  e%  nihilo,  for  Carleton's 
letter  above  is  the  only  source  of  information.  But  even 
a  journalist  should  be  right  in  his  names,  and  should  not 
libel  people  gratuitously.  It  was  Sir  Michael  Hicks,  not 
Sir  Baptist  Hicks,  who  was  at  the  wedding,  and  when 
Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon  says  that  Cope,  Hicks,  and  Beeston 
were  "  hard  drinkers  and  men  about  town,"  it  is  probably 
"  a  mere  development  of  the  fact  that  he  knew  them  to 
have  been  once  the  chief  guests  at  a  wedding  dinner,  and 
knew  no  more,"  as  Mr.  Spedding  humorously  remarks. 

Would  that  other  megalomanes  could  have  adorned 
their  verses  with  such  beauties,  and  their  philosophies 
with  such  shrewd  solidity  as  did  that  magnificent  "  Ueber- 
mensch,"  Francis  Bacon. 

The  more  I  ponder  over  what  I  read  of  Francis  Bacon's 
life  and  character,  and  compare  it  with  what  is  known 
of  the  life  and  character  of  William  Shakespeare,  the 
more  I  feel  what  a  tremendous  miracle  it  would  be  for 
Shakespeare  to  have  written  the  Plays  and  Poems,  and 
how  natural  and  congruous  it  seems  that  they  should 
have  proceeded  in  all  their  world-wide  glories  from  that 
magnificent  and  universal  genius,  the  philosopher  of 
Gorhambury.  To  use  a  vulgarised  adjective,  Bacon  was 
*'  immense  "  in  most  things.  Consider  his  far-reaching  in- 
tellectual aspirations !  He  had  determined  at  the  outset 
of  his  career  "  to  take  all  learning  for  his  province,"  as 
he  told  his  uncle  Burghley  with  that  absence  of  all  mock- 
modesty  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  man  who  is  not 
ignorant  of  his  own  parts.  And  what  is  more,  he  justified, 
as  I  contend,  his  boastful  assertion  in  those  immortal 
Plays,  where  we  seem  to  see,  in  every  subject  mentioned, 


298         GOOD   WORK    NEEDS   GOOD   TOOLS 

the  master-hand  of  an  encyclopaedic  and  universal 
genius. 

But  the  best  workmen  require  a  good  supply  of  suitable 
tools,  and  cannot  be  expected  to  produce  good  results 
without  them.  The  genius  of  Pheidias  would  never  have 
chiselled  into  divine  majesty  the  chrys-elephantine  Jove, 
nor  Gibbon  have  perfected  his  monumental  history  without 
these  necessary  helps.  Now,  we  are  asked  to  believe 
that  the  player  from  Stratford  executed  his  immortal 
work  almost  without  any  tools,  or,  at  least,  with  only  a 
few  to  start  with  which  he  procured  when  a  boy  at  the 
Stratford  grammar-school,  and  was  never  afterwards,  as 
far  as  we  know  from  the  uneventful  and  commonplace 
history  of  his  life,  able  to  give  the  proper  time  to  main- 
tain them  in  good  working  order  at  home,  nor  yet  to  go 
to  the  manufacturers,  that  is  to  say,  the  libraries,  to 
get  them  properly  polished  and  up-to-date.  In  fact, 
such  places  as  libraries  were  few  and  far  between  in 
Elizabethan  days,  and  the  great  Oxford  emporium  was 
only  just  being  started  with  a  new  stock  by  Sir  Thomas 
Bodley. 

It  seems  thus  that  Shakespeare  the  player  was  badly 
handicapped  in  the  race  for  Fame.  But  how  was  it  with 
his  great  competitor,  "  My  young  Lord-Keeper  "  ?  What 
choice  of  tools  had  he  ?  Why,  from  the  age  of  eighteen 
onwards  he  had,  so  to  speak,  his  lodgings  "  over  a  tool- 
shop."  He  could  walk  into  Gray's  Inn  Library  without 
so  much  as  putting  on  his  beaver,  and  before  that,  his 
father  had  well  supplied  him  at  home,  and  also  sent  him 
betimes  to  that  excellent  Cambridge  shop  at  the  sign  of 
"  The  Trinity."  So  here  again  there  is  no  comparison 
between  the  two  ;  one  is  competent  for  the  most  finished 
work,  the  other  seems  wellnigh  disqualified ;  for,  in 
spite  of  his  two-hundred  years'  reputation  of  being  the 
greatest  literary  workman  of  his  own  or  any  age,  he  is 
not  known  to  have  possessed  a  single  literary  tool,  except 
perhaps  a  Florio's  Montaigne,  in  which  some  one  else 
apparently  scribbled  his  name ;  and  he  is  never  known  to 
have  frequented  the  emporia  where  the  best  tools  were  kept. 


BACON'S   RAPID   WORK  299 

Finally,  as  against  those  critics  who  dwell  so  much  on 
the  argument  that  "  Bacon  had  not  time  to  write  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  even  if  he  had  the  abiUty,"  I  would 
add,  to  the  considerations  already  mentioned,  Bacon's 
own  remark  in  his  Cogitata  et  Visa.  He  says,  "  He  finds 
in  his  own  experience  that  the  art  of  inventing  grows  by 
invention  itself ;  "  that  is,  it  becomes  gradually  easier  to 
produce  works  of  invention  of  a  literary  kind  (for  of  these 
he  is  speaking)  after  a  httle  practice.  Indeed,  when 
Bacon  was  well  set  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  would  not 
have  much  more  trouble  in  writing  one  of  his  immortal 
Plays,  than  an  able  critic  to-day  in  preparing  a  review 
for  one  of  the  Quarterlies. 

Consider,  too,  the  large  quantity  of  matter  in  the 
Plays  which  is  really  only  North's  Plutarch  and  Holinshed 
turned  into  blank  verse.  With  Bacon's  peculiar  facility 
in  improving  other  people'slanguage  almost  spontaneously, 
a  fact  for  which  Rawley  vouches — and  Rawley,  his  private 
chaplain  and  executor,  should  know  this  better  than  any 
one  else — he  would  take  very  little  time  in  providing  the 
matter  for  even  a  five-act  play,  and  he  had  always  plenty 
of  people  about  him,  servants  and  scriveners,  who  would 
save  him  much  time  and  trouble  in  transcription.  But 
Rawley's  own  words  settle  this  matter  :  "  With  what 
sufficiency  he  wrote  let  the  world  judge  ;  with  what 
celerity  he  wrote  them  (his  works)  I  can  the  best  testify." 

We  have  no  difficulty  in  deciding  to  which  of  the 
two  parties  in  the  Church  of  England  Bacon  belonged  in 
1590  and  earlier.  He  was  an  Anglican,  and  of  that  party 
to  which  Whitgift  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  belonged, 
who  indeed  almost  made  and  sustained  it  as  against  the 
Puritans  on  one  side  and  the  Roman  Catholics  with 
Spanish  and  Papal  leanings  on  the  other.  Lady  Anne 
Bacon  makes  this  evident  to  us,  for  she  writes  to  her 
son  Anthony  when  in  1590  he  was  returning  home  from 
his  long  residence  abroad,  and  urges  him  to  testify  his 
adherence  to  those  who  "  profess  the  true  religion  of 
Christ "  (the  Puritans,  she  means),  and  to  do  so  boldly 
and  openly.    She  adds  in  Latin,  I  suppose  so  that  the 


30O  GRAND   LANGUAGE 

servants  should  not  by  chance  see  the  letter  lying  about, 
and  it  should  thus  reach  the  ears  of  Francis,  in  hoc  noli 
adhibere  fratrem  tuum  ad  consilium  ant  exemplum,  sed  plus 
dehinc  ;  and  then  goes  on  to  write  in  Greek  that  Arch- 
bishop Whitgift  was  the  destruction  of  the  English  Church. 
Thus  it  is  pretty  clear  that  Pallas-Shakespeare-Bacon  was 
no  Puritan,  but  a  strong  Anglican  of  Whitgift' s  view  of 
thinking  ;  and  hence  we  can  better  explain  the  licensing 
of  such  a  book  as  Venus  and  Adonis  by  the  Archbishop's 
own  signature.  Whitgift  would  pass  over  in  Bacon,  his 
rising  pupil,  what  he  would  prohibit  in  men  of  a  different 
stamp  ;  for  I  assume  that  Bacon  in  some  way  did  see 
his  first  two  long  poems  through  the  press,  for  they  have 
every  appearance  of  being  carefully  revised  by  the  author, 
and  are  thus  in  a  very  different  position  from  the  quarto 
plays,  which  are  as  a  rule  most  carelessly  printed,  and 
full  of  such  blunders  as  might  be  expected  in  pirated 
copies. 

Almost  directly  after  Venus  and  Adonis  had  appeared 
we  hear  of  Francis  Bacon  at  the  age  of  thirty-four  making 
his  very  tardy  appearance  in  his  first  pleading  in  the 
King's  Bench,  and  there  was  considerable  excitement  and 
expectation  among  his  friends  as  to  the  impression  he 
would  make.  Fortunately  we  are  able  to  know  the 
result,  since  a  young  lawyer  of  Gray's  Inn  who  was 
present  at  one  of  these  pleadings  wrote  an  account  of  it 
to  Anthony  Bacon.  This  letter  I  claim  as  important 
evidence  in  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  controversy,  for  it 
tells  us  that  a  marked  feature  of  the  new  pleader  was 
"  the  unusual  words  wherewith  he  had  spangled  his 
speech."  In  fact,  some  sentences  were  almost  too  obscure 
for  the  capacities  of  his  hearers,  as  it  appeared  to  the 
young  lawyer,  but  he  ended  his  letter  facetiously  by 
remarking  that  if  it  please  her  Majesty  to  add  deeds  to 
words  "  the  Bacon  may  be  too  hard  for  the  Cook  !  " 

Now  here  we  have  Francis  Bacon  exhibiting  in  his 
own  person  one  of  the  most  marked  characteristics  of 
the  Shakespeare  Plays  before  the  great  majority  of  them 
were  written — I  mean  the  enormous  vocabulary  and  the 


I 


UNIQUE   WORDS  301 

many  unusual  and  unique  words  which  are  found  in  the 
Plays.  It  has  always  been  a  difficulty,  indeed  almost  a 
miracle,  that  the  Stratford  provincial  should  command 
such  a  wonderful  stock  of  words ;  and  when  we  find  that 
Bacon  was  the  very  man  who,  even  when  comparatively 
young,  astonished  his  learned  contemporaries  by  this 
identical  characteristic,  it  certainly  seems  a  piece  of 
evidence  strongly  in  Bacon's  favour  as  to  the  disputed 
authorship.  And  if  any  one  cares  to  look  further  into 
some  of  the  many  unusual  words  in  the  works  attributed 
to  Shakespeare  the  player,  they  will  be  greatly  surprised. 
I  will  put  down  only  a  few  ;  they  are  all  words  used  for 
the  first  time  in  the  history  of  our  language,  many  of 
them  have  never  been  used  a  second  time,  and  they  are 
all  invented  and  used  in  a  strict  and  proper  scholarlike 
manner. 

Antre,  from  Lat.  antrum^  a  cave. — Othello^  i.  3. 

Cadent,  from  Lat.  cadere^  to  fall. — Lear^  i.  4. 

Captious,  from  capere^  to  receive. 

"  Yet,  in  this  captious  and  intenible  sieve, 
I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  love." 

—Alls  Well,  i.  3. 

Circummure,  to  wall  round. — Measure  for  Measure,  iv.  i. 
Conspectuities,  from  conspicere,  to  behold. 

"  What  harm    can   your  bisson   conspectuities  glean  out  of  this 
character  ? " 

— Coriolanus^  ii.  i. 

I  doubt  whether  any  question  addressed  to  the  court 
in  Bacon's  maiden  speeches  reached  quite  so  high  a  level 
as  this  last : 

Empiricutic,  from  the  Greek,  meaning  tentative. 
"  The  most  sovereign  prescription  in  Galen  is  but  empiricutic." 

And  without  going  on  alphabetically  any  further,  let 
us  take  but  two  more,  incarnadine  and  necessary.  What 
lover  of  Shakespeare  is  there  who  does  not  know  that 
wondrous  line  : 

"  The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine." 

— Macbeth^  ii.  2. 


302  THE    "NECESSARY   CAT" 

Now  incarnadine  is  coined  by  the  writer  out  of  Low  Latin 
or  some  Romance  language,  and  means,  according  to 
derivation,  tinged  with  the  colour  of  flesh.  And  necessary 
is  used  of  a  cat : 

"  A  harmless,  necessary  cat." 

— As  You  Like  It,  iii.  3. 

But  why  is  a  cat  "  necessary  "  ?  Because  it  is  a  domestic 
animal,  and  the  Latin  word  necessarius  means  anything 
or  anybody  connected  with  one's  household,  and  so 
familiar,  domestic.  But  would  Shakespeare  at  any 
period  of  his  life  be  likely  to  call  his  wife's  cat  either  at 
Shottery,  or  at  their  grander  quarters  in  New  Place,  a 
"  necessary  cat  "  ? 

These  instances,  like  the  identities  and  the  parallelisms, 
can  be  almost  indefinitely  multiplied,  and  are  to  be  found 
in  great  numbers  in  Baconian  books,  especially  those  of 
Mrs.  Pott  and  Mr.  Edwin  Reed.  I  think  they  are  good 
items  of  evidence,  better  than  the  identities  and  parallel- 
isms, but  they  need  not  be  alluded  to  any  further  here, 
as  Mr.  Reed  has  done  them  ample  justice. 

It  is  known  to  all  acquainted  with  Bacon's  philo- 
sophical works  that  he  separated  them  into  two  classes  : 
(i)  Those  destined  to  be  "  publike." 
(2)  Those  destined  to  be  "  traditionary." 
This  word  "  traditionary  "  comes  from  an  original  MS. 
in  Bacon's  own  handwriting,  entitled  Valerius  Terminus, 
which  contained  fragments  of  a  greater  work  he  had 
proposed  to  write,  and  was  in  fact  the  earliest  type  of  the 
Instauratio.    The  title-page  gives  a  list  of  twelve  frag- 
ments, and  then  we  have  : 

"  1 3.  The  first  chapter  of  [the]  a  booke  of  the  same  argu- 
ment wrytten  in  Latine  and  destined  [for]  to  be  [traditionary] 
separate  and  not  publike." 

The  words  in  brackets  are  crossed  out  in  the  MS.,  and 
the  succeeding  words  placed  in  their  stead. 

There  is  this  singular  fact  to  record  about  Bacon, 
that  from  the  very  first  he  showed  himself  unwilling  to 


AN   ESOTERIC   PHILOSOPHER  303 

allow  his  peculiar  method  in  Philosophy  to  be  generally 
known.  Like  some  of  the  ancient  philosophers,  he  wished 
it  to  be  handed  down  only  ad  filios  (his  intellectual  sons), 
only  to  those  who  were  willing  to  receive  it  and  fit  to 
understand  it.  The  exposition  of  his  new  method  or 
instrument  he  wished  to  be  esoteric,  and  to  make  its  way 
quietly,  without  contention  or  vulgar  discussion,  into  the 
minds  that  could  receive  it — a  select  audience,  acquainted 
with  the  Latin  tongue  in  whi^^h  it  was  to  be  presented, 
for  Bacon  thought  this  universal  tongue  of  the  learned 
would  alone  endure  to  distant  posterities.  It  does  not 
seem  that  he  was  jealous  of  his  great  secret,  or  that  he 
wished  to  exclude  the  vulgar  from  the  knowledge  of  it, 
but  rather  that  it  was  too  abstruse  to  be  handled  suc- 
cessfully by  any  but  the  fit  and  few.  All  preparatory 
knowledge  tending  to  make  plain  the  way  to  understand 
the  new  method  Bacon  wished  to  be  widely  spread  and 
propagated  among  all  classes.  Here  he  would  much 
rather  find  auditors  than  exclude  them ;  and  some 
curious  suggestive  evidence  of  this  is  known  to  me, 
where  it  seems  probable  that  Bacon  used  other  names 
to  conceal  his  own.  He  wanted  his  great  views  to  be 
received  and  understood,  but  not  by  means  of  con- 
tentious arguments  but  rather  by  chalking  the  door  of 
those  where  he  was  to  be  received  in  a  peaceful  way, 
without  threat  of  personal  violence  or  entry  by  force. 
This  curious  simile,  which  he  borrowed  from  one  of  the 
Borgias,  is  several  times  referred  to  by  Bacon,  and  was 
clearly  a  favourite  way  of  expressing  his  propaganda. 
He  was  willing  to  efface  himself,  if  only  the  world  would 
become  able  to  accept  his  method  and  profit  by  it. 

And  as  in  Philosophy,  so  in  the  Devices  and  Masques 
he  kept  himself  in  the  background,  and  allowed  others 
to  take  the  credit  which  solely  or  chiefly  belonged  to 
him.  He  did  not  put  his  name  to  any  literary  work  till 
he  was  nearly  forty  years  old. 

But  what  I  chiefly  wish  to  draw  attention  to  here  is 
the  curious  self-effacement  in  literary  matters  of  one 
whose   organ   of  self-esteem  was   so   highly  developed. 


304  LITERARY   RESERVE 

That  is  one  point,  and  the  other  is  the  two  classes  of 
writing  or  teaching  admittedly  used  by  him  as  occasion 
required. 

Bacon  had  also,  as  I  believe,  and  as  this  book  is  written 
to  show,  a  third  class  of  writings,  viz.  : 

(3)  Those  destined  by  himself  to  go  to  posterity  by 
another  name,  but  still  bearing  the  mark,  the  deep  brand 
of  his  own  vocabulary,  his  own  scholarship,  and  his  own 
philosophy — a  brand,  too,  that  none  of  the  barber- 
surgeons  of  the  press,  the  stage,  or  the  higher  criticism 
can  ever  erase,  if  they  try  till  doomsday.  Besides  this 
unmistakable  brand,  one  of  the  works  that  went  to 
posterity  by  another  name,  I  mean  Lucrece,  certainly 
bore  on  its  very  front  his  own  name  as  in  his  early  days 
he  signed  it ;  a  "  moiety  "  of  his  fuller  name,  but  quite 
enough  to  show  his  head  where  men  could  prove  it. 

I  can  also  show  plainly  from  Bacon's  own  words  that 
he  held  the  unusual  view  that  a  man's  writings  should 
follow  the  man  after  he  was  dead,  and  that  it  was  to 
some  extent  an  "  untimely  anticipation  "  to  let  the  world 
have  them  while  he  was  alive.  This  opinion  of  this  is 
given  in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Dr.  Andrewes, 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  on  the  subject  of  his  Essays  : 

"  As  for  my  Essays,  and  some  other  particulars  of  that  nature, 
(Poems?  Plays?)  I  count  them  but  as  the  recreation  of  my 
other  studies,  and  in  that  sort  purpose  to  continue  them  .  .  . 
But  I  account  the  use  that  a  man  should  seek  of  the  publishing 
of  his  own  writings  before  his  death  to  be  but  an  untimely 
anticipation  of  that  which  is  proper  to  follow  a  man,  and  not  go 
along  with  him." 

Whoever  else  among  great  and  ambitious  men  held 
this  strange  doctrine  of  literary  reserve  ?  Whoever  else 
among  men  of  illustrious  intellect  did  thus  efface,  as  did 
Bacon,  the  brightest  part  of  a  glorious  mind  from  the 
praise  and  acknowledgment  of  succeeding  generations  ? 
Whoever  else  in  all  history  allowed,  of  set  purpose,  the 
lofty  pedestal  on  which  he  had  every  right  to  take  his 
stand  to  be  possessed  by  a  money-grubbing,  facetious 


LITERARY   MIRACLES  305 

actor-manager  whose  vocabulary  could  not  have  been 
mentioned  in  the  same  breath  with  his  own,  to  say  nothing 
of  much  more  significant  differences. 

It  is  this  "  literary  miracle  "  that  makes  it  so  hard 
for  people  to  give  up  the  traditional  Shakespeare.  But 
surely  when  we  have  Bacon's  own  words  in  his  letter 
above,  and  also  that  memorable  testamentary  device  of 
his  whereby  he  left  his  name  and  memory  to  "  the  next 
ages,"  we  should  not  allow  an  apparent  miracle  to  pre- 
judice our  examination  of  a  literary  problem.  Speak- 
ing loosely,  there  are  about  as  many  miracles  on  one  side 
of  the  problem  as  on  the  other,  for  if  Bacon  really  com- 
posed this  third  class  of  writings  contained  in  the  wonderful 
first  folio,  in  Lucrece,  in  the  Sonnets  and  elsewhere,  and 
passed  them  over  in  complete  silence  when  he  died — 
that  is  undoubtedly  a  literary  miracle.  But  if  the  player 
from  Stratford  wrote  them,  and  also  passed  them  over 
in  complete  silence  when  he  made  his  will  and  left  his 
second-best  bedstead  to  his  wife — that  is  also  surely  a 
literary  miracle  as  well ;   and  so 

"  Even  as  one  heat  another  heat  expels. 
Or  as  one  nail  by  strength  drives  out  another," 

we  may  cancel  the  first  miracle  by  the  second  and  proceed 
to  judgment  unaffected  by  either. 

And  now,  putting  aside  the  disturbing  miraculous 
element,  what  are  we  to  say  about  the  proof  from  Lucrece  ? 
Did  Bacon  really  show  his  head  there,  both  at  the  be- 
ginning and  at  the  end  ?  Did  he  sign  that  fine  poem 
cryptogrammatically  on  its  first  page  and  its  last  and 
let  the  real  author  lie  there  latent,  while  the  letters  of 
the  name  William  Shakespeare  were  blazoned  to  the 
world  at  full  length  at  the  foot  of  the  dedication  ?  Let 
us  not  waste  time  by  arguing  whether  it  was  likely  or 
not — the  signature  is  there,  and  we  are  to  pronounce  upon 
it.  Is  it  an  intricate  arithmetical,  multi-literal  crypto- 
gram like  Donnelly's,  of  which  the  man  in  the  street  can 
make  neither  head  nor  tail  ?  Certainly  not ;  a  man 
need  not  be  a  Sherlock  Holmes  to  detect  both  the  head 
and  tail  of  this  evidence.    And  slight  and  foolish  as  it 

u 


3o6  VESTIBULE   AND   BACK   DOOR 

may  seem  to  some,  it  is  a  point  of  prime  importance,  for 
if  we  accept  this  evidence  as  sufficient  to  show  that 
Francis  Bacon  certainly  wrote  Lucrece,  unless  he  bribed 
Shakespeare  to  hide  his  initials  and  full  name  at  the 
beginning  and  end,  then  the  whole  controversy  is  practi- 
cally settled.  For  whoever  wrote  Lucrece  wrote  Venus 
and  Adonis,  and  whoever  wrote  that  poem  wrote  the 
Sonnets  and  the  earlier  plays ;  for  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  A  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream,  and  Romeo  and  Juliet  are  so  intimately  connected 
by  parallel  passages  with  the  Sonnets,  that  no  atom  of 
doubt  remains  that  he  who  wrote  the  Sonnets  wrote  also 
these  plays  ;  and  if  these  earlier  plays,  why  not  parts 
of  the  later  plays  also,  for  there  are  evident  traces  of 
the  same  immortal  genius  in  them  all,  as  they  have  been 
handed  down  to  us  in  their  last  revised  and  first  collected 
edition — the  folio  of  1623.  Moreover,  if  Shakespeare 
really  wrote  Lucrece,  why  on  earth  should  Francis  Bacon 
want  to  hide  his  name  at  the  beginning  or  end  ?  These 
are  just  the  places  where  Bacon  would  hide  his  name  if 
he  had  written  Lucrece  himself.  I  admit  that  to  the 
fullest,  but  that  is  a  very  different  statement,  and  makes 
strongly  for  my  contention. 

Bacon  gives  us  this  hint  himself.  He  calls  the  Fore- 
word or  Preface  of  a  book  its  "  Vestibule,"  and  the 
Conclusion  or  Epilogue  he  calls  its  "  Back  Door,"  and 
remarks  that  many  matters  may  be  properly  discussed 
and  mentioned  in  these  parts  of  a  book  which  could  not 
be  fitly  grappled  with  in  the  body  of  the  work  ;  just  as 
a  man  may  say  and  do  many  things  at  the  front  door 
or  at  the  back  door  which  he  would  not  permit  inside 
the  house.  Now  certainly  the  front  and  back  doors  have 
been  used  in  Lucrece,  and  I  think  Bacon  is  the  man  who 
used  them — for  himself  and  posterity  solely — leaving  the 
dedication  of  the  Poem  to  be  signed  by  Your  Lordships 
in  all  duety  William  Shakespeare. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

CERTAIN  UNUSUAL  CIRCUMSTANCES  AND  HINTS  CON- 
NECTED WITH  THE  POEMS  AND  PLAYS  OF  WILLIAM 
SHAKESPEARE 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  none  of  Shakespeare's  Plays 
is  dedicated  to  any  person  or  patron.  The  Poems 
dedicated  to  Southampton  seem  the  sole  exception.  They 
were  the  first  works  to  which  the  name  of  Shake-speare 
was  given,  and  afterwards  no  other  Maecenas  was  addressed. 
The  general  custom  of  those  days  was  very  much  in 
favour  of  dedications,  and  gross  flattery  and  ridiculous 
obsequiousness  abounded  everjrwhere  in  such  productions. 
Neither  player  nor  poet  felt  it  below  his  dignity  to  have 
recourse  to  fulsome  dedications,  generally  with  the  view 
to  enrich  his  pocket  with  the  gifts  from  his  patron. 

But  Bacon  has  left  plainly  on  record  that  he  was 
strongly  against  this  degradation  of  learning.     He  says  : 

"The  gross  and  palpable  flattery  whereunto  many  (not 
unlearned)  have  abased  and  abused  their  wits  and  pens,  turning 
(as  Du  Bartas  saith)  Hecuba  into  Helena  and  Faustina  into 
Lucretia,  hath  most  diminished  the  price  and  estimation  of  learning. 
Neither  is  the  moral  [t.^.  customary]  dedications  of  books  and 
writings,  as  to  patrons,  to  be  commended :  for  that  books  (such 
as  are  worthy  the  name  of  books)  ought  to  have  no  patrons  but 
truth  and  reason ;  and  the  ancient  custom  was  to  dedicate  them 
only  to  private  and  equal  friends,  or  to  intitle  the  books  with 
their  names;  or  if  to  kings  and  great  persons  it  was  to  some 
such  as  the  argument  of  the  book  was  fit  and  proper  for."  * 

This  we  see  Bacon  carried  out  in  practice  in  his  poems 
of  Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece  ;  for  Southampton  was 
a  private  friend,  and  his  "  sugred  sonnets  "  were  for  his 

*  Advaiicement  of  Learning,  iii.  281,  ed.  Spedding. 
307 


3o8  EARLY   DAYS 

"  private  friends,"  and  the  poems  bore  the  name  of  the 
friend. 

Now  we  should  Hke  to  know  more  about  young  Francis 
Bacon's  private  friends  when  he  was  at  Gray's  Inn  in  his 
early  days,  the  kind  of  "  set  "  he  was  connected  with, 
and  how  he  spent  his  evenings.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  he  was  a  close  student,  and  kept  to  himself  and  to 
his  books  very  much.  As  we  should  say  at  Cambridge, 
"  his  oak  was  often  sported  "  ;  and  the  very  few  notices 
we  have  of  Bacon's  early  London  days  point  in  that 
direction.  But  there  were  fast  young  lawyers  about 
town  in  those  Elizabethan  times.  That  rare  tract  by 
Thomas  Middleton,  entitled  Father  Hubburd's  Tales,  tells 
us  what  a  rich  young  squire  from  the  country  ought  to 
do  on  coming  to  town  : 

"  He  must  acquaint  himself  with  many  gallants  of  the  Innes 
of  Court,  and  keep  rank  with  those  that  spend  most ;  .  .  .  after 
dinner  he  must  venture  beyond  sea,  that  is,  in  a  choise  paire  of 
Noble-mens  Oares  to  the  Bankside  where  he  must  sit  out  the 
breaking  up  of  a  Comedie,  or  the  first  Cut  of  a  Tragedie,  or 
rather  (if  his  humour  so  serve  him)  to  call  in  at  the  Black-fryers, 
where  he  should  see  a  neast  of  Boyes,  able  to  ravish  a  man." 

Is  it  likely  that  Francis  Bacon  ever  spent  his  evenings 
in  this  dissipated  way  ?  I  think  so  ;  and  remembering 
what  Aubrey  said  his  humour  was,  I  have  no  doubt  it 
sometimes  served  him  to  call  in  at  the  Blackfriars  and 
see  the  young  boy- actors  in  their  nest.  Do  we  not 
remember  that  curious  expression  in  Hamlet,  an  "  aery 
of  children,  little  eyases  "  ?  That  referred  to  boy-actors, 
and  "  aery  "  was  the  word  for  a  nest  of  hawks,  and  the 
"  eyases  "  were  the  young  birds  in  it.  So  perhaps  Bacon 
had  watched  them  with  an  eye  of  interest,  for  it  is  Bacon 
and  not  Shakespeare  who  is  so  frequently  referring  to 
the  aristocratic  pursuit  of  hawking  and  using  its  technical 
terms  in  the  Shakespeare  Plays  ;  at  least  that  is  our 
view,  as  it  also  is  that  Bacon  was  one  of  the  two  friends 
who  were  the  Damon  and  Pythias  of  the  Bankside  and 
had  "  one  drab  "  between  them. 


AT   GRAY'S   INN  309 

Lady  Anne  had  great  fears  about  her  son  Francis, 
and  hinted  pretty  plainly  in  her  letters  to  Anthony  what 
her  opinion  was.  She  thought  he  was  averse  to  taking 
good  advice,  and  was  producing  his  *'  own  early  dis- 
credit "  ;  and  this  was  in  1593,  when  Francis  was  at  the 
discreet  age  of  thirty- two.  So,  though  we  may  assume 
that  Francis  was  a  devoted  student  and  thinker  in  the 
days  of  his  youth,  we  must  not,  I  think,  also  assume 
that  he  was  a  perfect  Joseph  in  matters  of  the  moral 
law.  Noscitur  a  sociis  is  a  good  rule  in  such  matters, 
and  as  Perez,  Essex,  Southampton,  and  Pembroke  were  all 
far  from  being  Sir  Galahads,  it  may  be  fairly  assumed  that 
Francis  Bacon,  the  intimate  companion  of  such  pleasure- 
loving  grandees,  was  not  an  unlikely  person  to  figure  in 
those  strange  adventures  that  are  depicted  to  us  so  dimly 
in  the  Sonnets. 

He  was  certainly  a  much  more  likely  person  for  the 
part  than  William  Shakespeare,  and  although  the  Bacon 
of  middle  and  later  life  was  apparently  a  man  of  serious, 
learned,  and  philosophic  tastes,  we  should  not  therefore 
assume  that  in  his  youth  he  must  have  been  a  kind  of 
Elizabethan  John  Stuart  Mill — a  mere  "  book  in  breeches," 
as  Mill's  enemies  called  him.  We  may  far  more  justly 
assume  that  his  three  years  in  France  after  he  left  college 
were  spent  in  the  fashionable  pleasures  that  were  usual 
with  gay  young  men  of  position  ;  and  that  though  a 
lover  of  learning,  he  was  neither  a  hermit  nor  a  saint, 
but  was  qualifying  himself  by  his  social  surroundings  for 
the  production  of  that  wonderful  original  play  Love's 
Labour^ s  Lost,  which  I  cannot  help  thinking  was  his  first 
dramatic  sketch,  and  perhaps  partly  autobiographical 
as  well. 

Another  very  singular  circumstance  connected  with 
William  Shakespeare  is,  that  when  he  died  there  were  no 
epicedia  or  lacrymce,  or  any  of  the  laudatory  laments  that 
were  wont  to  be  bestowed  on  the  illustrious  dead.  The 
greatest  genius  of  the  age  left  the  world  without  a  word 
of  comment  for  good  or  ill  from  any  one.  Surely  there 
is  something  mysterious  here.     It  is  not  even  known  for 


310  AN   OVIDIAN   DOMINO 

certain  when  his  memorial  tomb  in  Stratford  Church  was 
erected.  There  is  no  mention  of  it  until  the  issue  of  the 
first  folio  in  1623,  and  it  and  its  inscriptions  may  have 
been  only  then  recently  erected  in  view  of  the  outcoming 
folio  edition  of  his  Plays. 

Such  a  great  and  popular  dramatist  deserved  some 
notice  from  his  contemporaries  when  he  left  the  great 
theatre  of  the  world  for  ever ; — why  then  this  singular 
conspiracy  of  silence  ?  Was  it  because  he  was  shrewdly 
suspected  of  being  only  a  successful  broker  of  other  men's 
plays,  and  therefore  the  less  said  the  better  ?  But  just 
now  we  are  more  concerned  with  the  early  days  of 
Bacon  than  with  the  last  days  of  Shakespeare,  so  we 
will  consider  him  for  a  moment  under  his  Ovidian 
domino,  as  I  believe  Ben  Jonson  depicted  him  in  the 
Poetaster. 

Bacon,  like  Milton,  began  by  being  a  lover  of  Ovid. 
The  "  first  heire  "  of  his  invention  in  poetry  was  of  Ovidian 
descent,  and  of  the  "  Amorous  Latin  "  school.  There  was 
no  slur  on  a  man's  breeding  because  he  wrote  poems.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  a  proof  of  cultured  and  courtly  wit. 
The  aristocratic  young  bloods  tried  their  hands  at  it — 
Pembroke,  Essex,  and  others  ;  and  to  be  able  to  write 
verses  for  the  maids  of  honour  to  sing  to  their  virginals 
was  in  a  gallant's  favour.  It  was  play-writing  that  was 
decreed  to  be  impossible  for  a  courtly  gallant.  So  Bacon, 
who  from  his  earliest  days  always  aimed  at  the  greatest 
and  highest  "  births  of  time,"  did  not  begin  with  any 
short  lyrics,  but  attempted  a  grand  poem  on  an  Ovidian 
subject,  and  enriched  by  such  "  native  wood-notes  wild  " 
as  never  came  from  Ovid's  lips.  Who  would  have  thought 
that  Bacon,  beginning  so,  should  become  within  a  few 
years  the  author  of  Hamlet?  What  a  contrast,  what  a 
gulf  between  the  two !  It  seems  almost  incredible  that 
both  should  come  from  the  same  pen  ;  but  in  Venus  and 
Adonis  we  see  the  author  of  Hamlet  when  young,  we  see 
there  the  Bacon  of  the  Sonnets  and  of  the  Master-Mistress 
of  his  passion.  And  in  Hamlet  we  see  the  same  person- 
ality older  and  wiser,  having  passed  through  a  dark  period 


EXTREME   BACONIANS  311 

of  slander  and  disappointment  which  might  have  wrecked 
a  weaker  man. 

In  the  Sonnets  and  the  Poems  may  we  not  say  that 
Bacon,  Hke  Goethe  and  Schiller,  was  in  his  Sturm  und 
Drang  period,  and  that  in  Hamlet  he  had  passed  beyond 
it,  even  as  Wallenstein  succeeded  the  Robbers,  and  Wilhelm 
Meister  blotted  out  Werther?  The  amorous  ecstasy  of 
youth  had  changed  to  the  philosophic  contemplation  of 
maturer  experience.  Venus  had  yielded  her  sceptre  to 
Philanthropia,  but  her  subject  and  worshipper  remained 
an  aristocrat  throughout. 

"Aristocrat  indeed!"  exclaim  the  Shakespearians ; 
"why,  the  frequent  coarse  remarks  of  the  Plays  show 
that  he  was  a  man  of  the  people."  This  reply  seems 
to  me  very  weak.  In  an  age  of  extreme  coarseness, 
the  immortal  Plays  were  much  more  free  from  this 
defect  than  the  majority  of  contemporary  dramas. 
The  penny  and  twopenny  public  had  to  be  considered, 
and  certain  comic  scenes  and  broad  allusions  were  ex- 
pected by  a  certain  class  of  the  audience;  and  Bacon, 
aristocrat  as  he  was,  still  was  quite  equal  to  supplying 
the  need,  for  we  are  told,  on  good  authority,  that  Bacon 
could  talk  with  all  sorts  of  people  in  their  own  jargon. 
So  the  occasional  coarseness  of  the  dialogue  tells  in 
Bacon's  favour  rather  than  not. 

But  I  must  here  repeat  that  I  do  not  hold  the  extreme 
theory  that  Bacon  wrote  the  whole  of  the  wonderful 
dramas  from  beginning  to  finish,  including  all  the  excellent 
stage  arrangement  and  all  the  subsidiary  parts  and  scenes, 
and  that  we  have  not  a  word  or  a  character  which  is  due 
to  Shakespeare  the  player.  I  think  such  a  theory  will 
not  stand  for  a  moment,  and  is  absolutely  impossible 
when  we  consider  the  contemporary  attitude  towards 
Shakespeare  taken  by  his  fellow-players,  friends  and 
enemies.  Even  his  enemies  never  said  he  was  a  mere 
puppet  in  other  people's  hands — they  gave  him  credit 
for  '*  locks  of  wool "  and  "  shreds,"  though  the  whole 
fleece  was  not  his  in  their  belief.  There  are  some  Warwick- 
shire places  and  characters  here  and  there  in  the  Plays, 


3i«  SHAKESPEARE  EXCLUDED 

and  some  of  the  names  of  the  roystering  dramatis  personce 
are  well-known  Stratford  names  which  appear  in  municipal 
documents,  and  in  the  proceedings  against  recusants  in 
Shakespeare's  father's  time.  I  should  attribute  such 
scenes  and  incidents  of  the  Plays  to  Shakespeare  rather 
than  to  Bacon.  It  seems  far  more  likely  that  Shakespeare, 
being  a  broker  and  reviser  of  old  stage  property,  and  an 
expert  at  it,  should  touch  up  and  arrange  extra  stage 
business  for  Bacon's  plays,  rather  than  that  he  should 
put  them  on  the  boards  just  as  they  came  neatly  written 
from  the  scrivener's  clerk  or  the  scriptorium  at  Twicken- 
ham, and  make  no  alteration  whatever.  Indeed,  I  see 
plain  evidence  of  Ben  Jonson  discriminating  between 
Bacon  the  dramatist  and  Ovidian  poet  and  Shakespeare 
the  player — the  Luscus  who  rants  with  his  buskins  on, 
and  swears  "  by  the  welkin,"  and  is  after  all  only  a  Poet- 
ape,  and  a  parcel-poet  with  an  unrestrained  flow  of  words 
at  times  that  makes  him  ridiculous  rather  than  sublime. 
But  he  was  not  a  bad  fellow,  had  a  good  flowing  stream 
of  language,  and  a  facetious  grace  to  go  with  it.  So,  it 
seems,  thought  Ben  Jonson,  Henry  Chettle,  and  others 
who  knew  him. 

However,  Shakespeare  had  no  share  in  the  writing  of 
Venus  and  Adonis  and  Lucrece,  we  may  be  pretty  sure  of 
that ;  they  were  from  the  hand  of  Francis  Bacon,  and 
he  has  left  his  mark  upon  them.  There  is  also  a  remark- 
able circumstance  connected  with  Venus  and  Adonis 
which  points  strongly  to  Bacon,  although  no  Baconian 
has  availed  himself  of  it  yet.  It  is  this.  Venus  and 
Adonis  was  enrolled  on  the  Stationers'  Register  under  the 
special  authority  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  Now 
the  poem  is  not  of  a  nature  to  be  gathered  for  protection 
under  an  Archbishop's  wing,  and  especially  such  an  Arch- 
bishop as  Dr.  Whitgift  was,  who  took  severe  steps  against 
questionable  and  improper  books,  and  was  the  strict 
ecclesiastical  dignitary  who  closed  the  register  against 
Hall's  Satires,  Marlowe's  Ovid,  and  several  other  books 
of  the  same  licentious  character  as  Venus  and  Adonis. 
Why  this  unfair  favouritism,  as  it  must  have  appeared 


IN  THE   POEMS   AND  SONNETS  313 

to  be  to  all  who  took  notice  of  it  ?  If  Bacon  wrote  it 
we  have  a  good  reason  to  give,  but  if  Shakespeare,  then 
it  becomes  much  more  difficult  to  explain.  The  Arch- 
bishop was  very  friendly  to  Francis  Bacon,  and  knew 
him  as  a  lad  intimately,  for  he  was  his  tutor  when  young 
Bacon  came  up  to  Trinity,  his  college.  He  knew  nothing 
of  Shakespeare,  and  would  be  against  an  actor  who  wrote 
licentious  poetry,  which  would  be  a  double  offence  in 
clerical  eyes. 

This  incident,  then,  of  the  Archbishop's  special  favour 
towards  Venus  and  Adonis  points  to  an  antecedent  friend- 
ship with  the  author  ;  and  in  that  case  the  author  would 
be  Bacon,  and  not  Shakespeare.  Or  we,  perhaps,  may 
put  it  in  this  way ;  Bacon  asked  his  old  tutor  for  his 
sanction  to  William  Shakespeare's  first  attempt,  and  the 
Archbishop  took  Bacon's  word  for  it,  and  granted  his 
request. 

The  Sonnets,  too,  are  Bacon's  entirely.  They  were 
early  work,  and  in  them  he  practised  his  "  pupil  pen." 
They  were  only  for  his  private  friends,  and  not  intended 
for  the  general  public's  eye  or  ear,  and  therefore  we  find 
they  were  used  by  him  as  a  safe  storehouse  to  draw  from, 
at  least  up  to  the  year  1609,  when  they  were  published 
(as  I  think)  without  the  author's  knowledge.  The  proof 
of  this  is  in  the  numerous  parallelisms  found  between  the 
Sonnets  and  the  early  plays,  such  as  The  Two  Gentlemen 
of  Verona,  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,  and  Romeo  and  Juliet,  all  before  1598.  After 
this  date  the  parallel  passages  are  few  and  far  between, 
so  we  conclude  that  the  Sonnets  and  these  early  plays 
were  being  composed  about  the  same  time,  and  that  the 
author  boldly  plagiarised  from  himself  in  the  Sonnets, 
because  he  thought  they  were  not  generally  known,  and 
never  would  be.  They  were  only  his  exercise-book,  the 
work  of  his  "  pupil  pen."  A  good  example  of  this  appears 
in  the  Earl  of  Pembroke's  letter  to  Robert  Cecil,  written 
very  shortly  after  his  release  from  the  Fleet  Prison,  where 
he  had  been  placed  temporarily  on  Mary  Fitton's  account. 
In  this  letter  (dated  1601)  we  find  many  striking  phrases 


314  THE   PROOF   FROM 

and  turns  of  thought  which  are  evidently  borrowed  from 
one  of  the  Sonnets.  Now,  this  letter  is  supposed  to  have 
been  concocted  by  the  author  of  the  Sonnets,  or  at  least 
suggested  to  Pembroke  by  that  author.  So  here  we  have 
Bacon  in  1601  borrowing  from  his  own  "exercise-book" 
or  pupil  verses,  as  yet  unpubhshed  except  in  MS.  to  private 
friends.  It  was  also  hence  a  possible  inference  that  Robert 
Cecil  was  not  one  of  the  favoured  private  friends  who  had  a 
copy.  This  last  inference  is  also  on  several  other  grounds 
not  unlikely ;  and  indeed  if  the  Cecils  had  an  author's  copy 
it  would  most  likely  have  been  preserved  at  Hatfield 
House,  and  we  should  have  heard  something  about  such 
a  precious  treasure  before  now.  An  original  MS.  of  the 
Sonnets  in  the  author's  handwriting,  if  found  in  the 
cupboard  of  a  lumber-room  at  Hatfield  House,  would 
have  beaten  even  the  "  record "  find  of  Elizabethan 
rarities  at  Lamport  Hall. 

Another  point  is  this  : 

The  Shakespeare  Plays  were  being  constantly  revised. 
No  one  has  ever  ventured  to  contradict  this  certain  fact. 
Indeed,  Mr.  Fleay,  the  great  authority  on  the  Chronology 
of  the  Plays,  says  "  there  is  not  a  play  that  can  be  referred 
even  on  the  rashest  conjecture  to  a  date  anterior  to  1594, 
which  does  not  bear  the  plainest  internal  evidence  of 
having  been  refashioned  at  a  later  time."  *  No  other 
contemporary  plays  were  habitually  recast  in  this  way. 
Ben  Jonson,  Marston,  Dekker,  and  the  rest  had  their 
quartos  published  and  there  was  an  end  of  them,  as  far 
as  any  touching  up  was  concerned.  If  a  prologue  or 
epilogue  or  some  libellous  allusion  were  prohibited  in  the 
first  publishing  of  a  play  of  theirs,  it  might  appear  in  a 
later  edition  with  a  few  extra  remarks.  This  happened 
in  some  of  old  Ben's  hard-hitting  plays,  and  in  other 
writers  too  ;  but  there  was  no  deliberate  revision  as  in 
the  Shakespeare  Plays — in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  in  Hamlet, 
and  in  others. 

My  point  is  that  this  constant  revising  and  altering 
was  distinctly  Baconian.    In  his  letters  to  Tobie  Matthew, 

*  YXeay^  Life  of  Shakespeare,  1886,  p.  128. 


THE   CONSTANT   REVISION  315 

his  most  intimate  friend,  Bacon  refers  to  this  habit  of  his 
own  as  well  known  to  his  friend,  and  we  find  also  that 
he  wrote  and  re- wrote  his  philosophical  works,  or  some 
of  them,  at  least  four  or  five  times  over.  And  perhaps 
the  Essays  afford  the  best  instance  of  all.  Their  successive 
alterations  and  revisions  remind  us  of  nothing  so  much 
as  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays  ;  and  they  received  their 
final  revision  only  just  a  year  or  so  after  the  final  revision 
of  the  Plays  in  the  first  folio.  Take  only  one  or  two 
examples  from  the  "  Contents "  page  of  almost  any 
modern  edition ;   we  have : 

2  Of  Death,  161 2,  enlarged  1625. 
II  Of  Great  Place,  1612,  slightly  enlarged  1625. 
28  Of  Expense,  1597,  enlarged  1612,  and  again  1625. 
55  Of  Honour   and    Reputation,    1597,    omitted    161 2,    re- 
published 161 5. 

The  "  real  Shakespeare  "  of  Ben  Jonson,  whose  utter- 
ances "  flowed  with  that  facility,  that  sometimes  it  was 
necessary  he  should  be  stopped,"  and  whose  manuscript 
was  so  clean  because  "  in  his  writing  (whatsoever  he 
penn'd)  hee  never  blotted  oui;^  line,"  certainly  does  not 
seem  to  be  the  kind  of  writer  who  would  be  always  revising, 
touching  up,  and  tinkering  his  first  rapid  inspiration. 
But  Bacon  seemed  to  enjoy  this  rather  tedious  literary 
labour,  and  on  this  account  I  think  the  constant  changes, 
and  the  various  readings  and  revisions  on  which  critics 
have  bestowed  such  astonishing  pains,  are  all  in  favour 
of  the  Bacon  theory  of  their  origin. 

As  to  Shakespeare's  MSS.  with  never  a  line  blotted 
out,  I  take  their  origin  to  be,  either  the  scrivener's  office 
or  the  scriptorium  at  Twickenham  or  elsewhere,  where 
Bacon  kept  his  "  pens  "  (penmen).  I  add  one  extract 
from  a  letter  dated  Gray's  Inn,  17th  February  1610. 
Bacon  says  (to  Tobie  Matthew)  :  "  My  great  work  (the 
Wisdom  of  the  Ancients)  goeth  forward ;  and  after  my 
manner  I  alter  ever  when  I  add  :  so  that  nothing  is 
finished  till  all  be  finished."  Nor  must  we  forget  that 
the  great  folio  of  1623  was  itself  an  immense  work  of 


$t6  THE  STRANGE  CASE 

revision.  The  early  quartos  were  altered,  passages 
excised,  and  the  Plays  made  better  for  reading  in  the 
study  than  by  any  improvement  as  acting  plays.  If 
Shakespeare  had  done  this  work,  it  must  have  been  at 
least  seven  years  previously,  for  he  died  in  1616.  Why 
this  delay  ?  The  revision  is  far  more  likely  due  to  Bacon, 
who  in  conjunction  with  Jonson  is  thought  to  have 
arranged  the  literary  prefaces. 

It  may  fairly  be  said  that  the  evidence  in  favour  of 
the  author  having  revised  several  Shakespeare  Plays  in 
or  about  the  year  1623  is  too  strong  to  be  put  aside.  But 
the  author  had  been  dead  seven  years,  and  although  even 
in  this  twentieth  century  "  he  being  dead  yet  speaketh," 
he  does  not  speak  quite  in  this  peculiar  manner,  and  has 
never  since,  as  far  as  I  have  heard,  added  160  new  lines 
to  one  of  his  Plays.  But  this  remarkable  occurrence 
took  place  among  many  similar  ones  in  1623,  and  the 
play  was  Othello.  This  play  had  never  been  printed  in 
any  form  during  the  lifetime  of  Shakespeare  the  player. 
It  was  first  published  in  1622,  six  years  after  vShakespeare's 
death,  in  quarto  form,  and  in  1623  it  was  published  a 
second  time  in  the  first  folio  with  160  additional  lines, 
evidently  from  the  hand  of  the  author.  As  Bacon  showed 
his  head  in  Lucrece,  so  also  I  believe  he  showed  his  hand 
here.  For  from  what  other  source  did  these  lines  come  ? 
"  Oh,"  replies  the  orthodox  believer,  "  they  came  clearly 
from  the  original  MS.  at  the  playhouse,  which  the  managers 
and  possessors  had  supplied  to  the  editors  of  the  folio." 
But  there  are  several  things  against  this  supposition. 
Why  were  not  the  additional  lines  printed  in  the  quarto 
of  the  year  before  ?  If  it  be  said  that  was  an  imperfect 
and  pirated  copy,  we  still  are  at  a  loss  to  know  why  it 
was  not  printed  long  before,  when  other  quartos  were 
being  issued  with  or  without  authority.  Moreover,  these 
added  lines  have  a  very  Baconian  allusion  about  the 

"  Pontic  sea 
Whose  icy  current  and  compulsive  course 
Ne'er  feels  retiring  ebb  ;" 

which  was  one  of  Bacon's  scientific  facts  which  he  referred 


OF  OTHELLO  AND   RICHARD   IIL  317 

to  in  a  treatise  on  Tides  written  about  the  time  of  Shake- 
speare's death.  Here  Bacon  mentions  the  "  Pontus  "  and 
"  Propontis,"  and  the  words  "  Pontic  "  and  "  Propontic  " 
occur  in  the  Hues  added  to  Othello, 

The  case  of  the  play  of  Richard  III.  is  even  stronger. 
There  was  a  sixth  edition  of  this  play  (quarto)  in  1622, 
and  in  the  folio  edition  of  1623  there  were  nearly  200 
new  lines  added  and  nearly  2000  retouched,  and  as  there 
were  several  printer's  errors  peculiar  to  the  quarto  of 
1622  which  reappeared  in  the  same  form  in  the  folio  of 
1623,  it  looks  as  if  the  additions  and  alterations  were 
made  upon  the  sixth  edition  in  quarto,  that  is,  were 
made  six  years  after  Shakespeare's  death.  There  is 
much  more  evidence  of  a  similar  kind  with  regard  to 
other  plays,  and  the  solution  that  Shakespeare  the  player 
left  all  this  mass  of  corrections  and  additions  in  MS. 
when  he  died  in  1616,  appears  to  be  in  the  highest  degree 
unlikely,  when  we  examine  what  really  happened  in  the 
two  last  editions  of  Othello  and  Richard  III.,  not  to  speak 
of  others. 

As  to  the  fons  et  origo  of  all  this  constant  revision, 
both  early  and  late  (but  especially  late),  my  impression 
is  that  it  was  mainly  due  to  the  changing  and  progressive 
philosophical  conceptions  of  Francis  Bacon.  Originally 
the  Plays  may  have  been  the  Works  of  Recreation  of  his 
"  great  mind,"  but  from  a  very  early  period  it  was  his 
New  Method  of  Philosophy  which  was  the  darling  of  his 
intellect,  and  other  literary  projects  became  subservient 
to  this  more  important  one.  It  was  not  long  before  some 
of  the  earlier  plays  were  revised  and  brought  into  closer 
accordance  with  his  philosophical  views.  Lovers  Lahour^s 
Lost,  King  Lear,  and  Hamlet  seem  the  best  examples  of 
this  ;  while  other  plays,  such  as  The  Tempest  or  Macbeth, 
would  be  originally  written  to  further  or  to  illustrate  the 
great  conceptions  of  the  New  Method  which  so  possessed 
his  mind.  But  he  would  revise  all  again  and  again,  even 
as  he  revised  his  Novum  Organum  every  year  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  final  revision  took  place  for  the  great 
folio    of  1623,  when^he  had  practically  finished  those 


3i8  YORICK'S   SKULL 

parts  of  his  philosophical  method  he  intended  for  the 
public. 

Again,  was  Bacon  or  Shakespeare  the  more  likely  man 
to  depict  accurately  and  to  the  very  life  the  many  aristo- 
crats by  birth  and  intellect  that  figure  so  frequently 
in  the  unrivalled  dramas  ?  If  we  think  of  their  early 
experiences  and  opportunities,  their  respective  positions 
and  surroundings  from  the  ages  of  seventeen  to  twenty- 
one — perhaps  the  most  impressionable  years  of  a  man's 
life — we  shall,  I  think,  give  but  one  answer,  and  that  a 
most  decided  one  : — Bacon  has  everything  in  his  favour  ; 
Shakespeare  little,  if  anything. 

Hepworth  Dixon  sums  up  this  early  part  of  Bacon's 
life  very  well  : 

"In  the  train  of  Sir  Amyas  Paulett,  he  rides  at  seventeen 
with  that  throng  of  nobles  who  attend  the  King  and  the  Queen- 
mother  down  to  Blois,  to  Tours,  to  Poictiers ;  mixes  with  the 
fair  women  on  whose  bright  eyes  the  Queen  relies  for  her  success, 
even  more  than  on  her  regiments  and  fleets ;  glides  in  through 
the  hostile  camps;  observes  the  Catholic  and  Huguenot  in- 
trigues, and  sees  the  great  men  of  either  Court  make  love 
and  war."  * 

This  was  surely  a  better  seminarium,  a  more  pro- 
ductive seed-plot,  for  the  future  everlasting  flowers  of 
courtly  and  cultured  fancy  that  spring  up  before  us  in 
the  Shake-speare  Dramas,  than  young  Shaxper  of  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon  could  possibly  have  access  to. 

Again,  there  is  that  well-known  incident  of  Yorick's 
skull  in  Hamlet.  I  do  not  think  that  it  has  ever  been 
noticed  how  this  points  to  Bacon  much  more  than  to 
Shakespeare.  The  dates  here  evolved  are  most  trouble- 
some to  the  orthodox  Shakespearians,  and  Mr.  W.  C. 
Hazlitt,  in  his  last  work  on  Shakespeare  (Quaritch,  1902), 
has  to  invent  a  journey  of  young  Shakespeare  to  London 
when  he  was  about  ten,  on  which  occasion  he  rode  on 
Yorick's  back,  as  stated  in  Hamlet  (!) ;  for  "  Yorick  the 
King's  jester  "  was  the  famous  Tarlton  the  clown,  and 

*  Hepworth  Dixon,  Personal  Life  of  Lord  Bacotty  p.  13. 


TARLTON   THE   JESTER  319 

court  jester  to  Elizabeth.  He  died  in  1588,  when  Shake- 
speare was  about  four-and-twenty,  and  in  the  first  quarto 
of  Hamlet  it  is  said  that  Yorick  had  been  buried  "  this 
twelve  year,"  which  would  just  be  about  1588  if  Hamlet 
were  written  in  1600  or  160 1,  as  is  generally  supposed, 
and  so  points  pretty  clearly  to  Tarlton,  who  was  the  only 
famous  court  jester  it  could  refer  to. 

As  is  well  known,  Hamlet  refers  to  knowing  this  jester 
well,  and  being  carried  in  play  on  his  back,  and  to  having 
kissed  him  often,  and  to  having  heard  his  jokes,  which 
"  were  wont  to  set  the  table  on  a  roar," — at  Court  pre- 
sumably. But  supposing  that  Shakespeare's  father  did 
bring  young  William  to  town  in  1574,  when  the  boy  was 
about  ten,  what  likelihood  would  there  be  of  his  being 
carried  pick-a-back  by  Tarlton  or  hearing  his  jokes  among 
the  diners  at  Court  ?  But  Bacon  when  a  boy  was  well 
known  at  Court,  and  was  called  by  the  Queen,  who  often 
used  to  talk  with  him,  in  a  half-playful  manner,  "  My 
young  Lord  Keeper,"  and  had  much  greater  chances  of 
meeting  the  Queen's  jester  Tarlton  than  ever  Shakespeare 
had.  For  as  Fuller  tells  us  :  "  When  Queen  Elizabeth 
was  serious,  I  dare  not  say  sullen,  and  out  of  good  humour, 
he  (Tarlton)  could  undumpish  her  at  his  pleasure.  Her 
highest  favourites  would  in  some  cases  go  to  Tarlton 
before  they  would  go  to  the  Queen,  and  he  was  their  usher 
to  prepare  their  advantageous  access  unto  her."  *  But 
the  more  Hamlet  is  read  and  understood,  the  more  clearly 
does  John  Bright's  vigorous  Anglo-Saxon  seem  to  be 
written  across  every  page :  "Any  man  who  believes  that 
William  Shakespeare  of  Stratford  wrote  Hamlet  or  Lear 
is  a "     H'm !  Bona  verba  quceso. 

*  Fuller's  Worthies,  ii.  312. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHY   DID   FRANCIS   BACON   CONCEAL   HIS   IDENTITY  ? 
SUMMARY  OF  DIFFICULTIES  AND   OBJECTIONS 

I  DO  not  think  that  sufficient  attention  has  been  given  to 
the  constant  withdrawal  of  Bacon's  name  from  his  own 
writings  in  his  earher  days.  He  was  nothing  if  not  anony- 
mous, and  was,  so  to  speak,  nurtured  in  an  atmosphere  of 
secret  or  concealed  authorship.  His  father,  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  is  supposed  to  have  made  use  of  a  living  con- 
temporary mask  to  hide  his  authorship  of  a  certain 
political  treatise.  His  mother.  Lady  Anne  Bacon,  made 
several  learned  translations  from  Latin  and  Italian,  but 
withheld  her  full  name.  His  brother  Anthony,  who  was 
so  clever  with  ciphers  that  he  was  asked  to  compose  one, 
had  many  correspondents  known  well  enough  to  him,  but 
their  signatures  were  very  often  altered,  and  other  names 
assumed.  The  letters  of  Standen  to  Anthony  Bacon  are 
preserved  at  Lambeth,  and  he  writes  under  two  names  in 
addition  to  his  own. 

But  young  Francis  Bacon  preferred  at  first  to  write 
under  no  name  at  all,  and  to  manage,  if  possible,  so  that 
his  productions,  chiefly  at  that  time  political,  might  be 
attributed  to  some  greater  celebrity.  There  was  that  early 
Letter  of  Advice  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  written  in  1584-5, 
thought  for  a  long  time  to  be  Lord  Burghley's  work,  but 
known  now  to  be  written  by  Bacon.  There  was  the  letter 
to  Monsieur  Critoy,  Secretary  of  France,  written,  to  all 
appearance,  by  Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  the  English 
Secretary,  about  the  year  1589,  but  now,  after  many  years, 
shown  to  be  drawn  up  by  Bacon,  who  indeed  used  a  great 
part  of  it  almost  word  for  word  in  his  Observations  on  a 

Libel  about   three   years   afterwards.    This   "  repeating 

320 


WHO   IS   RUSCUS?  321 

himself  "  Spedding  calls  "  conclusive  "  evidence  of  Bacon's 
handiwork  ;   what  say  the  Shakespearians  to  this  ? 

It  is  known  too,  and  mentioned  more  fully  elsewhere 
in  this  book,  that  Bacon  was  often  writing  letters  from 
other  people  to  other  people,  and  even  from  other  people 
to  himself,  and  was  indeed  ready  for  any  other  varia- 
tion of  epistolary  correspondence  that  might  serve  his 
turn. 

I  have  often  thought  that  Bacon  was  the  "brown 
Ruscus  "  of  Marston's  first  Satire  ;  at  least  I  can  think 
of  no  one  who  suits  it  better.  I  will,  however,  give  the 
critics  a  chance  of  finding  one  : 

"  Tell  me,  brown  Ruscus,  hast  thou  Gyges'  ring, 
That  thou  presumest  as  if  thou  wert  unseen  ? 
If  not,  why  in  thy  wits  half  capreal 
Lett'st  thou  a  superscribed  letter  fall  ? 
And  from  thyself  unto  thyself  dost  send. 
And  in  the  same  thyself  thyself  commend  ? 
For  shame  !  leave  running  to  some  satrapas, 
Leave  glavering  on  him  in  the  peopled  press  ; 
Holding  him  on  as  he  through  Paul's  doth  walk, 
With  nods  and  legs  and  odd  superfluous  talk  ; 
When  he  esteems  thee  but  a  parasite. 
For  shame  !  unmask  ;  leave  for  to  cloke  intent, 
And  show  thou  art  vain-glorious  impudent." 

— Satire,  II.  5-18. 

The  date  of  the  above  would  be  1597-8,  when  Bacon 
was  still  looking  forward  to  Essex,  the  Queen's  satrap,  doing 
something  for  his  advancement  in  office.  But  whether 
Bacon  be  Ruscus  or  not,  there  is  undoubted  evidence  that 
he  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  fictitious  letters,  masked 
authorship,  and  general  literary  concealment  in  the  earlier 
part  of  his  career.  He  was  a  very  hard  worker  too,  and 
"  sported  his  oak  "  as  persistently  as  a  Johnian  sizar  in 
his  first  year.  Nicholas  Faunt  lets  us  know  this,  for  he 
made  a  grievance  of  it  when  writing  to  his  friend  Anthony, 
Francis's  brother.  In  1584  Faunt  called  on  Francis  Bacon 
at  Gray's  Inn — a  friendly  call  to  exchange  news  about 
Anthony,  who  was  abroad.  Bacon's  man-servant  an- 
swered the  door,  and  presently  came  back  to  say  that  his 

X 


322  WHY  BACON   USED  A   MASK 

master  was  too  much  engaged  to  see  any  one,  but  would 
Mr.  Faunt  leave  his  message  ?  No,  Mr.  Faunt  would  not, 
and  went  away  rather  in  a  huff,  for  he  writes  off  at  once 
to  Anthony  and  tells  him  about  what  occurred  at  the  door : 
"  Neither  was  I  so  simple  to  say  all  to  a  boy  at  the  door, 
his  master  being  within.  This  strangeness  hath  at  other 
times  been  used  towards  me  by  your  brother,"  &c.  I  am 
afraid  no  excuse  can  be  offered  for  this  repeated  dis- 
courtesy of  young  Francis.  But  if  he  were  occupied  with 
Venus  and  Adonis,  or  was  reading  or  pondering  over  some 
early  play,  I  for  one  would  forgive  him. 

But  to  return  to  the  question  we  started  with — the 
atmosphere  of  concealment  with  regard  to  authorship  in 
which  Bacon  habitually  lived  in  his  earlier  days — we  must 
not  forget  that  this  private  literary  work  under  a  mask  was 
a  maxim  of  Bacon's  which  he  adhered  to  and  stated  openly 
in  his  later  days.  Thus  in  his  treatise  De  morihus  inter- 
pretis  *  he  says  :  "  Privata  negotia  personatus  administret,^' 
i.e.  "  Let  him  do  his  private  business  under  a  mask." 
Spedding  has  a  footnote  to  this :  "I  cannot  say  that  I 
clearly  understand  the  sentence."  That  is  rather  Mr. 
Spedding 's  manner  when  he  meets  anything  not  coincid- 
ing with  his  own  fixed  views.  The  sentence  seems  clear 
enough,  especially  with  our  present  knowledge. 

In  fact,  Bacon  had  learned  by  experience.  When  he 
came  back  from  France  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth 
and  literary  daring,  he  soon  found  that  the  envious  critics, 
and  his  own  relations  too,  were  all  inclined  to  depreciate 
and  laugh  to  scorn  his  bold  youthful  attempts,  his  Greatest 
Birth  of  Time  and  other  "  phantasticall  "  conceits,  as  they 
would  call  them.  So  he  imitated  the  "  policy  "  of  Aris- 
totle, the  very  policy  that  in  his  dedication  to  Lord 
Mountjoye  of  The  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil  he  gives  to  the 
Stagirite  as  a  possible  reason  for  the  obscurity  of  some  of 
his  Greek  writings.  Aristotle,  he  says,  may  have  wished 
"  to  keep  himself  close,  as  one  that  had  been  a  challenger 
of  all  the  world,  and  had  raised  infinite  contradiction." 
This  was  just  Bacon's  case,  and  we  find  that  throughout  his 

*  Spedding,  vii.  367. 


WHY  BACON   USED  A  MASK  323 

life  he  tried  as  much  as  possible  to  avoid  causing  any 
violent  opposition  or  contradiction. 

But  why  did  Francis  Bacon  so  carefully  conceal  his 
share  in  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare  ?  This  question  has 
been  asked  for  more  than  forty  years,  and  the  answers 
generally  given  are  :  (i)  That  it  was  beneath  his  dignified 
birth  and  position  to  have  anything  to  do  with  play- 
writing  at  all.  The  men  who  devoted  themselves  to  that 
class  of  literary  composition  were  a  scurvy,  needy,  and 
loose-living  lot,  and  both  writers  and  actors  were  under 
the  conventional  ban  of  polite  and  serious  society.  * 
(2)  Bacon's  mother.  Lady  x\nne,  was  a  strong  Puritan 
and  a  determined  opponent  of  such  things,  and  had  much 
influence  over  both  her  sons,  even  when  arrived  at  com- 
paratively mature  age  ;  they  dreaded  her  scorn  and  dis- 
pleasure. The  answer  has  generalty  been  confined  to 
these  two  points  only ;  but  there  is  a  reason  which  seems 
to  me  stronger  than  either,  and  that  is,  that  it  was  a 
dangerous  matter  for  a  man  with  Bacon's  hopes  of  advance- 
ment in  life,  and  possible  future  political  influence,  to  be 
mixed  up  with  such  plays.  From  their  historical  char- 
acter many  of  them  lent  themselves  of  necessity  to  deep 
political  and  religious  questions.  The  charge  of  heresy 
or  treason  could  easily  be  brought  by  enemies,  and  as  we 
know  from  the  case  of  Richard  II.,  actually  was  brought. 
Nor  is  that  the  only  instance.  There  is  the  case  of  the 
play  of  Henry  IV.  and  Sir  John  Falstaff.  Sir  John  was, 
when  the  play  was  first  produced,  not  Falstaff,  but  Sir 
John  Oldcastle,  Lord  Cobham,  the  Protestant  martyr. 
The  contemporary  Lord  Cobham  strongly  objected,  and 
the  pla}^  was  revised — the  first  part  in  1598,  and  the  second 
in  1600,  expunging  Oldcastle  and  putting  Falstaff  in  his 

*  This  is  well  borne  out  by  the  evidence  of  Th.  Lodge,  who  before  1589 
had  taken  an  oath 

*'  To  write  no  more  of  that  whence  shame  doth  grow 
[Nor]  tie  my  pen  to  pennie-knaves  delight." 

Lodge  was  the  second  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Lodge,  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
and  was  about  three  years  older  than  Bacon.  The  pennie-knaves  were  the 
groundlings  of  the  theatre. 


324  WHY   BACON   USED   A   MASK 

place,  and  concluding  with  an  epilogue  saying,  "  Oldcastle 
died  a  martyr,  and  this  is  not  the  man." 

The  Elizabethan  age  was  one  when  treasons,  plots, 
and  conspiracies  were  matters  of  almost  everyday  occur- 
rence. There  were,  metaphorically  and  actually,  danger- 
ous powder-mines  in  political  circles  which  only  required 
the  falling  of  a  spark  to  produce  a  most  dangerous 
explosion.  Elizabeth  and  some  of  her  ministers  evidently 
thought  that  the  play  of  Richard  II.,  for  instance,  was  a 
spark  of  this  kind.  It  was  first  published  in  1598,  with 
"  W.  vShakespeare  "  on  the  title-page,  but  it  had  been  often 
acted  before,  and  was  once  in  the  Northumberland  MS. 
(1594),  but  had  been  afterwards  torn  out.* 

Queen  Elizabeth  had  conceived  great  suspicion  against 
this  play  of  Richard  II.,  and  when  Hayward's  Henry  IV, 
came  out  in  1599  ^^^^  an  extravagant  dedication  to  Essex, 
her  suspicions  became  still  stronger,  and  she  was  seriously 
annoyed.  Dr.  Hayward  barely  escaped  torture,  and 
those  who  had  procured  the  players  to  give  the  old  play 
of  Richard  II.  just  before  the  attempt  of  Essex  risked 
their  lives  for  the  deed  at  the  trial.  And  yet  not  one 
single  word  was  said  during  the  whole  long  trial  about 
William  Shakespeare,  the  author  of  the  play  considered 
so  suggestive  and  dangerous  by  the  Queen,  though  his 
name  was  given  at  full  length  on  the  title-page.  There 
is  designed  concealment  here  for  some  now  unknown 
purpose.  Was  it  that  Bacon  was  the  author  of  Richard  II. 
and  had  turned  Queen's  evidence  and  made  his  peace 
with  Elizabeth  by  attacking  his  former  patron  and  friend  ? 
and  was  it  Alleyn  who  wrote  and  informed  the  autho- 
rities ?  t  And  then  under  pressure,  did  Bacon's  name 
come  out  and  his  "  cheveril  "  yielding  conscience  permit 
him  to  take  the  part  he  did.  But  the  Poetaster  has  given 
us  some  hints  already  about  this  matter. 

*  We  are  reminded  of : 

*'  Who  has  a  book  of  all  that  Monarchs  do, 
He's  more  secure  to  keep  it  shut  than  shown. 

— Pej'ichs,  I.  i.  94. 
t  Cf.  p.  89  (ante). 


WHY  BACON   USED    A   MASK  325 

The  little  volume  of  Essays  was  the  first  book  that  bore 
the  name  of  Francis  Bacon  on  the  title-page,  although  he 
was  already  thirty-seven  years  old  and  of  great  knowledge 
and  experience.  This,  according  to  the  dedication,  ap- 
peared 30th  January  1598.  Shakespeare's  first  acknow- 
ledged Play  was  also  published  this  same  year — perhaps 
in  the  same  month,  but  certainly  at  no  great  interval. 

The  Essays  of  Francis  Bacon,  1598,  were  dedicated  to 
his  brother  Anthony,  and  this  dedication  is  a  very  sugges- 
tive one,  if  well  looked  into  in  connection  with  the  mystery 
of  the  Shakespeare  Plays.  He  says  first  that  he  is  acting 
now  "  like  some  that  have  an  Orcharde  il  neighbored 
that  gather  their  fruit  before  it  is  ripe,  to  prevent  steal- 
ing." He  goes  on  :  "  These  fragments  of  my  conceits 
were  going  to  print :  to  labour  the  stay  of  them  had  bene 
troublesome,  and  subject  to  interpretation  ;  to  let  them 
passe  had  bin  to  adventur  the  wrong  they  might  receive 
by  untrue  coppies,  or  by  some  garnishment  which  it  might 
please  any  that  shold  set  them  forth  to  bestow  upon  them. 
Therefore  I  held  it  best  discretion  to  publish  them  myselfe, 
as  they  passed  long  agoe  from  my  pen.  ..."  Then  he 
informs  his  brother  that  he  "  did  ever  hold  there  might 
be  as  great  a  vanity  in  re  tyring  and  withdrawing  men's 
conceits  (except  they  be  of  some  nature)  from  the  world, 
as  in  obtruding  them." 

Surely  all  this  semi-obscure  phraseology  suggests  to 
the  reader  concealed  and  "  re  tyred  "  writings  ;  copies 
sent  to  press  without  author's  revision  ;  retouching  and 
"  garnishment  "  by  other  hands  than  the  author's  ;  and 
lastly,  injunctions  to  "  stay  the  printing  "  of  some  of  these 
pirated  books — although  this  "  stay  "  is  admitted  to  be 
a  troublesome  matter,  and  likely  to  rouse  suspicion  and 
false  comment.  Does  not  all  this  suggest  that  the  author 
of  the  Essays  had  lately  experienced  troubles  connected 
with  publishers  and  the  press-pirates,  although  this  was 
ostensibly  his  first  work  ? 

But  it  may  be  asked.  Why  should  Bacon  write  for  the 
theatres  at  all  if  it  was  so  fraught  with  danger  to  himself 
and  his  prospects  ?     There  seems  to  be  at  least  two  reason- 


326  WHY   BACON   USED  A   MASK 

able  replies  to  this  objection.  One  is,  that  Bacon  was  by 
no  means  well  supplied  with  ready  money  in  his  early 
days,  or  indeed  at  any  time,  for  he  was  of  lavish  and 
extravagant  habits,  and  a  constant  borrower ;  and  so, 
when  at  Gray's  Inn,  and  having  time  on  his  hands,  he 
occupied  himself  in  the  agreeable  task  of  "  invention," 
and  prepared  plays,  partly  because  it  was  his  hobby  (and 
he  generally  took  a  good  deal  of  trouble  about  the  Masques 
at  Gray's  Inn),  and  partly  because  he  could  dispose  of  them 
to  the  theatres,  and  so  earn  something  to  help  his  present 
wants,  and  could  arrange  such  matters  without  publicity. 
The  plays  could  be  anonymous,  and  the  early  ones  were 
all  published  [or  pirated]  without  any  author's  name  ;  and 
when,  later  on  in  1598,  circumstances  arose  which  required 
Richard  II.  or  other  historical  plays  to  be  fathered  by  some 
one,  William  Shakespeare,  as  is  supposed,  either  stepped 
into  the  gap,  for  a  consideration,  or  allowed  his  name  to  be 
used  for  the  plays,  as  it  had  been  already  used  for  the  dedi- 
cation of  the  Poems  to  Southampton  a  few  years  before. 

The  general  opinion  that  all  the  Shakespearian  Plays 
were  pirated  and  purloined  from  stage  copies,  is,  I  believe, 
quite  a  mistake.  Money  could  be  made  by  publishing 
any  plays  that  were  popular  or  had  made  a  reputation, 
and  we  know  that  Ben  Jonson  used  to  get  paid  twice  for 
his  work,  once  for  the  stage  manuscript,  and  once  more 
from  the  stationer  to  whom  he  gave  it  for  publication. 
Sometimes  stationers  had  to  pay  a  good  long  price  for 
important  works.  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  wants  to  make  us 
believe  that  in  Shakespeare's  time  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  copyright.  This  assertion  will  not  stand,  or  at 
any  rate  is  misleading.  Members  of  the  Stationers' 
Company  who  had  agreed  to  purchase  a  manuscript  copy 
of  an  author's  work  were  undoubtedly  protected  in  their 
sole  rights  to  it,  and  thus  pirates  could  be  baffled  by  the 
author  or  proprietor  of  an  MS.  selling  his  rights  to  a  duly 
authorised  publisher.  Bacon,  who  wanted  money,  and 
knew  the  law  well  enough,  would  certainly  adopt  the  best 
plan  for  his  own  interest. 

Another  reason  was,  there  being  no  daity  papers  or 


WHY   BACON   USED   A   MASK  327 

periodicals  in  the  Elizabethan  times,  the  stage  was  one  of 
the  best  and  readiest  means  for  publishing  opinions  on 
any  subject.  A  large  public  could  be  reached  ;  many- 
people  who  never  opened  a  book  could  have  their  minds 
opened  and  their  views  modified  while  listening  to  the 
sentiments  uttered  by  the  characters  on  the  stage.  There 
was  a  fine  chance  for  instilling  lofty  thoughts  and  inspiring 
principles  by  means  of  what  was  seen  and  heard  on  the 
boards  of  the  theatre — and  the  author  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays  used  his  opportunity  well,  as  we  must  admit.  Now 
Bacon  was  a  man  who  would  use  such  an  opportunity 
well  for  the  common  good  of  humanity,  for  there  was  in 
Francis  Bacon  by  nature  a  serious  and  lofty  philanthropy, 
a  desire  to  make  the  world  better  than  he  found  it,  which 
all  the  students  of  Bacon  who  know  him  best  are  the  first 
to  acknowledge. 

The  author  of  the  Plays  has  been  thought  to  be  self- 
revealed  in  many  of  the  characters  of  his  Plays,  and, 
amongst  others,  especially  in  the  melancholy  Jacques  of 
As  You  Like  It,  who  exclaims  : 

"  Invest  me  in  my  motley  ;  give  me  leave 
To  speak  my  mind,  and  I  will  through  and  through 
Cleanse  the  foul  body  of  th'  infected  world." 

If  this  be  Bacon,  as  I  believe  it  was,  it  will  help  us  to  a 
good  reason  why  he  wrote  the  Plays. 

Nay,  has  not  Bacon  revealed  his  secret  pretty  plainly 
to  those  who  can  read  between  the  lines  in  his  last  beautiful 
Prayer  :  "I  have  hated  all  cruelty  and  hardness  of  heart ; 
I  have,  though  in  a  despised  weed,  sought  the  good  of  all 
men,'"  Now,  this  word  weed  had  then  ordinarily  the 
meaning  of  a  garment — it  yet  survives  in  our  "  widows' 
weeds  " — and  in  the  Baconian  and  Shakespearian  use  of 
the  word  there  seems  generally  a  half-meaning  of  a 
garment  or  dress  that  disguises  the  wearer.  Thus  in 
Sonnet  lxxvi.  : 

"  Why  write  I  still  all  one,  ever  the  same, 
And  keep  invention  in  a  noted  weed, 
That  every  word  doth  almost  tell  my  name. 
Showing  their  birth,  and  whence  they  did  proceed  ?  " 


328  WHY   BACON   USED   A   MASK 

In  both  cases  I  believe  Bacon  is  referring  to  the  same 
things — to  the  works  of  his  *'  invention,"  or,  as  he  some- 
times phrased  it,  "  works  of  his  recreation."  He  means 
that  in  his  Plays  he  had  sought  the  good  of  all  his  audience. 
He  means,  I  think,  that  he  had  sought  to  influence  his 
countrymen  for  their  good  in  politics,  national  history, 
and  patriotism,  as  represented  vividly  before  their  eyes 
in  the  theatres,  and  by  the  despised  companies  of  vagrant 
actors,  men  indeed  contemned  by  serious  culture  (Sir 
Thomas  Bodley,  to  wit)  and  Puritanical  self-righteousness, 
but  still  members  of  a  profession  and  practisers  of  an  art 
whose  increasing  future  influence  on  the  general  public 
Bacon's  keen  eyes  would  not  fail  to  detect. 

To  me,  that  very  word  "  invention  "  seems  to  point 
directly  to  "  plays  "  and  "  masques  "  and  "  long  poems  " 
like  Venus  and  Adonis,  that  "  first  heir  of  my  invention," 
as  its  author  called  it. 

We  have  good  proof  that  about  this  very  time — viz., 
the  year  1580 — this  word  was  so  applied  :  "I  confesse 
that  ere  this  I  have  bene  a  great  affect er  of  that  vaine  art 
of  Plaie-making,  insomuch  that  I  have  thought  no  time 
so  wel  bestowed,  as  when  my  wits  were  exercised  in  the 
invention  of  those  follies."  This  is  taken  from  "  A 
second  and  third  blast  of  retrait  from  plaies  and  theatres  .  .  .. 
set  forth  by  Anglo-phile  Eutheo,^^  1580,  T6mo,  p.  49.  Herein 
is  a  very  strong  indictment  of  the  Elizabethan  theatres 
of  the  year  1580.  It  would,  I  judge,  be  a  book  dear  to  the 
heart  of  Lady  Anne  Bacon  and  all  who  thought  as  she 
did  on  this  subject. 

The  theatres  during  Bacon's  time  were  the  resort  of 
many  profligate  and  noisy  persons.  Halliwell-Phillipps 
gives  many  instances  proving  from  contemporary  writers 
that  the  theatres  were  sinks  of  iniquity,  with  a  very 
bad  reputation  for  brawling,  low  company,  and  general 
debauchery.  Girls  of  good  character  would  be  afraid  of 
risking  their  reputation  by  visiting  such  places,  or  if  they 
did  they  would  be  masked.  It  is  to  be  feared  also  that 
the  custom  (which  was  universal  then)  of  dressing  up  men 
and  boys  in  women's  clothes  was  sometimes  an  incentive 


THE   STATE   OF   THE   THEATRES  329 

to  perverted  or  Italianated  instincts,  and  Italian  morals 
were  probably  more  known  and  imitated  among  the 
followers  and  patrons  of  the  theatrical  companies  than 
in  any  other  class  of  society.  The  University  men  who 
came  to  town  to  make  a  living  somehow  among  people 
of  this  grade  of  society,  were  nearly  always  loose  and 
profligate  livers.  Ben  Jonson  boasted  that  he  could 
brand  all  his  opponents  in  the  Theatre  War  so  deeply 
that  no  barber-surgeon  could  get  the  damning  mark  from 
their  skin.  It  seems  from  what  is  said  elsewhere  in  this 
book,  that  Bacon  was  one  of  this  company  in  Jonson's 
eyes,  and  that  probably  Bacon  himself  thought  he  was 
aimed  at,  and  sued  for  legal  protection  to  shut  Ben's 
virulent  mouth.  When  we  consider  the  very  mixed 
and  partly  disreputable  company  before  whom  the 
plays  of  Hamlet,  Lear,  Macbeth,  and  the  rest  were  acted, 
the  author  deserves  great  credit  for  the  endeavour  to 
elevate  the  rough  groundlings  and  stinkards  who  formed 
so  large  a  part  of  the  audience.  The  constant  revision, 
too,  and  improvement  of  the  plays — a  real  improvement 
and  not  merely  ad  captandum  vulgus,  nor  yet  ad  captandam 
pecuniam — all  this  seems  to  point  away  from  the  money- 
getting  player  and  part  proprietor  who  hailed  from 
Stratford,  and  to  point  in  the  direction  of  Francis  Bacon, 
the  great  literary  workman,  who  in  his  high  philanthropy 
used  a  despised  weed  for  the  good  of  all  men. 

The  Shakespeare  Plays  are  superior  in  moral  tone  and 
decency  to  the  ordinary  plays  of  the  period.  This  is  gene- 
rally admitted,  and  is  a  credit  to  the  author.  Certain  free 
passages  here  and  there  would  be  much  better  omitted, 
but  they  may  be  due  to  the  work  of  an  ill-advised  colla- 
borator at  the  theatre,  or  may  have  been  put  in  for  the 
benefit  of  the  groundlings,  stinkards,  and  prostitutes  who 
crowded  the  open  space  where  they  had  standing  room  at 
a  penny  a  head.  But  even  in  their  best  aspect  they  would 
have  been  an  abomination  to  Lady  Anne  and  her  preachers, 
and  after  reading  her  letters  to  her  son  Anthony  about  his 
brother's  shortcomings,  his  wastefulness,  his  "  cormorant 
seducers,"  and  his  filthy  Welsh  knaves,  we  may  well 


330  BACON'S   LITERARY   STYLE 

imagine  that  her  ladyship  would  not  be  sparing  of  her 
invective  if  she  had  been  told  that  Francis  often  went  to 
Blackfriars  to  see  the  young  eyases,  that  nest  of  boys  "  fit 
to  ravish  a  man,"  to  use  Thomas  Middleton's  Italianated 
expression.  This  would  indeed  have  roused  her  ire,  for 
if  Lady  Anne  hated  one  thing  more  than  another,  it  was 
riotous  living,  and  sinful  Popish  practices  and  corrupt 
ways  of  life. 

It  seems  from  what  we  read  in  the  second  Act  of 
Hamlet  that  these  little  boy-actors,  this  "aiery  of  children," 
became  quite  the  fashion  among  the  smart  set  of  court 
gallants,  and  "  so  berattle  the  common  stages  (as  they 
call  them)  that  many  w^earing  rapiers  are  afraid  of  goose 
quills,  and  dare  scarce  come  thither."  What  harm  the 
goose  quills  could  do  except  write  scandalous  libels  or 
vilifying  ridicule,  I  know  not.  The  passage  is  not  quite 
clear  to  me.  However,  in  the  Induction  to  Cynthia's 
Revels,  where  three  of  the  boy-actors  were  struggling  with 
each  other  for  the  usual  cloak  for  the  Prologue,  we  see 
plain  enough  that  these  children  were  old  in  the  ways  of 
the  world.  "  What !  "  says  the  third  child  to  the  other 
two,  "  will  you  ravish  me  ?  .  .  .  I'd  cry  a  rape  but  that 
you  are  children."  Ben  Jonson  knew  his  Italianated 
courtiers  well  enough. 

There  is  a  general  impression  with  regard  to  Bacon's 
prose  style  which  deserves  to  be  removed,  for  it  is  a 
primary  cause  by  which  many  people  are  led  to  refuse 
any  hearing  whatever  to  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  ques- 
tion. Bacon  is  really  very  little  read  nowadays,  even  by 
fairly  educated  people ;  and  the  general  impression 
gained  by  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  voluminous 
works  is  that  he  is  dreadfully  dry,  prosy,  and  dull — 
a  superficial  view  only,  but  it  remains  with  many  as 
a  permanent  one.  Therefore,  when  it  is  suggested  that 
Bacon  wrote  Shakespeare,  such  people,  recalling  their  im- 
pression of  Bacon's  style,  reject  the  idea  as  not  worth 
further  consideration.  But  thorough  students  of  Bacon 
speak  of  the  "  marvellous  language  in  which  Bacon  often 
clothes  his  thoughts.    His  utterances  are  not  unfrequently 


BACON'S   LITERARY   STYLE  331 

marked  with  a  grandeur  and  solemnity  of  tone,  a  majesty 
of  diction,  which  renders  it  impossible  to  forget  and  difficult 
even  to  criticise  them."  They  say  that  "  whenever  he 
wishes  to  be  emphatic,  there  is  a  true  ring  of  genius  in  all 
that  he  says.  There  is  no  author  so  stimulating.  Bacon 
might  well  be  called  the  British  Socrates."  *  If  such  a 
description  be  true,  and  its  high  authority  forbids  doubt, 
why  should  Bacon's  style  be  an  insuperable  objection  to  his 
being  the  author  of  Shakespeare  ? 

Bacon  then,  it  seems,  was  a  "  British  Socrates."  Now 
Shakespeare  was  called  a  Socrates  in  the  epitaph  at  Strat- 
ford Church.  Which  was  really  a  Socrates  ?  Surely  not 
Shakespeare.  Whoever  could  have  put  up  such  an  in- 
appropriate inscription  with  such  a  howling  false  quantity 
as  that  which  now  greets  the  eye  of  the  Shakespeare 
pilgrim : 

"  Judicio  Pylium  Socratem  ingenio,  arte  Maronem 
Terra  tegit,  populus  moeret,  Olympus  habet "  ? 

Besides,  it  suits  Bacon  so  much  better.  But  I  deal  with 
this  point  in  my  chapter  on  Jonson  and  Shakespeare. 

Nor  are  we  justified  in  saying  that  since  Bacon's  prose 
style  seems  in  general  so  heavy  and  so  often  quite  un- 
illumined  by  any  brightness  of  wit  and  fancy,  that  there- 
fore he  had  not  the  qualification  necessary  for  a  great  poet 
or  dramatist.  Dulness  of  treatment  in  a  prose  work  on 
politics,  philosophy,  or  religion,  and  page  after  page  un- 
illumined  by  any  light  of  wit  or  fancy,  is  by  no  means  a 
certain  proof  that  the  author  cannot  excel  in  the  high  poetic 
treatment  of  a  congenial  theme.  Take  Milton,  for  instance. 
We  might  parody  Mr.  Spedding,  and  say,  "  Whoever 
wrote  the  Colasterion  and  the  De  Doctrind  Christiana,  of 
this  I  am  quite  sure,  it  was  not  the  author  of  Comus  and 
Paradise  Lost.''  But  we  should  be  utterly  wrong.  One 
sublime  intellect  wrote  both  the  dull  and  the  lofty  sub- 
jects. And  may  not  the  same  be  true  of  the  lofty 
tragedies  of  Shakespeare,  abounding  in  poetic  conceptions 
of  the  highest  order,  and  the   excellent  but  somewhat 

*  JVa^.  Diet.  Biog.t  s.v.  Bacon. 


332  BACON'S   LITERARY   STYLE 

dull  and  tedious  philosophy  of  Francis  Bacon  ?  And 
just  as  Milton  had  purple  patches  of  echoing  thunder 
and  rhythmical  charm  in  the  midst  sometimes  of  his  most 
prosaic  discourse,  so  we  find  that  Bacon  too  was  not 
wanting  in  these  unexpected  variations.  We  often  meet 
in  his  solid  and  scientific  prose  the  imagery  of  a  true  poet, 
combined  sometimes  with  a  rhythmic  cadence  that  seems 
as  involuntary  as  it  is  beautiful. 

And  besides  we  have  the  speeches  of  the  Hermit 
and  others  in  the  "  Essex  Device  " — now  acknowledged 
to  be  Bacon's  work — speeches  full  of  lofty  imagination, 
and  abounding  in  the  deep-brained  similitudes  for  which 
Bacon  declared  he  had  a  kind  of  natural  talent,  and  which 
we  also  meet  with  so  often  in  the  Poems  and  Plays. 

But  let  us  hear  another  great  authority  on  Bacon's 
style — I  mean  Dr.  Abbott — and  we  shall  find  that  many 
difficulties  of  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  theory  vanish  en- 
tirely.   He  says  : 

"  Bacon's  style  varied  almost  as  much  as  his  handwriting ; 
but  it  was  influenced  more  by  the  subject-matter  than  by  youth 
or  old  age.  Few  men  have  shown  equal  versatility  in  adapting 
their  language  to  the  slightest  shade  of  circumstance  and  purpose. 
His  style  depended  upon  whether  he  was  addressing  a  king,  or  a 
great  nobleman,  or  a  philosopher,  or  a  friend;  whether  he  was 
composing  a  State  paper,  pleading  in  a  State  trial,  magnifying 
the  Prerogative,  extolling  Truth,  discussing  studies,  exhorting 
a  judge,  sending  a  New  Year's  present,  or  sounding  a  trumpet 
to  prepare  the  way  for  the  Kingdom  of  Man  over  Nature.  It 
is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  Bacon  was  never  florid  till  he  grew 
old.  On  the  contrary,  in  the  early  Devices  written  during  his 
connection  with  Essex,  he  uses  a  rich  exuberant  style  and  poetic 
rhythm ;  but  he  prefers  the  rhetorical  question  of  appeal  to  the 
complex  period.  .  .  .  The  Essays,  both  early  and  late,  abound 
in  pithy  metaphor  as  their  natural  illustration.  ...  It  would 
seem  that  Bacon's  habit  of  collecting  choice  words  and  phrases, 
to  express  his  meaning  exactly,  or  ornately,  had  from  a  very 
early  date  the  effect  of  repelling  some  of  his  hearers  by  the 
interspersion  of  unusual  expressions  and  metaphors.  .  .  .  He 
seems  gradually  to  have   succeeded,  with   the  aid   of  friendly 


A   STRANGE   VIEW  333 

critics,  in  shaking  off  his  early  tendency  to  '  spangle  his  speech ' 
with  fit  and  terse,  but  unusual,  expressions.  But  that  he  felt 
any  pride  in,  or  even  set  a  just  value  on,  his  unique  mastery  of 
the  English  language,  there  is  scarcely  any  indication." 

As  is  well  known,  one  of  the  most  curious  of  Bacon's 
literary  opinions  is  his  view  that  the  English  language  was 
not  permanent,  and  that  only  works  written  in  the  learned 
Latin  tongue  would  descend  to  distant  posterity.  Hence 
he  was  more  proud  of  his  Latin  works  than  his  English 
ones — at  least  that  was  his  view  in  his  last  years  ;  and  he 
took  great  pains  to  have  his  acknowledged  works,  and 
his  Essays  especially,  translated  into  Latin.  What  induced 
him  eventually  to  hold  this  view  seems  very  hard  to  dis- 
cover. Clearly  he  did  not  hold  it  in  his  younger  sonneteer- 
ing days,  as  we  know  by  those  beautiful  lines  addressed 
to  his  "  lovely  boy  "  : 

"  Nor  shall  Death  brag  thou  wander'st  in  his  shade, 
When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  grow'st ; 
So  long  as  men  can  breathe,  or  eyes  can  see, 
So  long  lives  this,  and  this  gives  life  to  thee." 

But  in  any  case,  the  strange  fact  remains  that  this 
most  wonderful  intellect,  this  "  wisest  of  mankind,"  was 
apparently  so  careless  of  his  literary  reputation  that  he 
did  not  publish  anything  till  he  was  nearly  forty  years  old. 
He  seems,  by  his  letter  to  his  uncle,  Lord  Treasurer 
Burghley,  in  1592,  to  have  determined  to  put  his  "  care 
of  (public)  service  "  before  the  care  of  his  books  and 
"  inventions,"  although  in  after  life  he  admitted  with 
sorrow  how  that  his  soul  had  long  dwelt  among  such 
things  as  were  enemies  to  his  peace — multum  fuit  incola 
anima  mea — or,  as  he  paraphrased  it  in  his  last  Prayer 
and  Confession,  "  I  may  truly  say  my  soul  hath  been  a 
stranger  in  the  course  of  my  pilgrimage."  That  was  his 
frequent  cry.  Bacon,  like  Milton,  was  not  ignorant  of 
his  own  parts  ;  he  knew  better  than  most  men  how  much 
there  needed  to  be  done  in  the  world,  and  in  his  "  vast 
contemplative  ends  "  he  no  doubt  often  thought  that  he 
was  the  man  to  do  it.     But  he  also  knew  that  no  man  could 


334  BACON'S   PHILA NTHROPIA 

effect  much  without  power,  and  means,  and  interest,  and 
so  he  set  himself  to  obtain  those  fulcra  for  moving  the 
world  as  his  first  object.  He  allied  himself  so  closely  to 
Essex  because  he  thought  power  lay  in  that  direction 
rather  than  with  the  humdrum  and  commonplace  policy 
of  the  Cecil  party,  although  he  was  allied  by  blood  to  the 
Cecils.  Indeed,  in  this  letter  to  Burghley  of  1592,  Bacon 
opens  his  mind  more  than  he  had  ever  done  before  in 
writing.  He  says,  "  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be 
my  province  "  ;  and  adds  that  if  he  could  g^t  rid  of  certain 
"  rovers,"  who  by  "  frivolous  disputations,  confutations, 
and  verbosities  "  in  one  part  of  the  province,  and  by 
"  blind  experiments  "  and  "  impostures  "  in  another  part, 
had  done  so  much  damage,  that  then  he  hoped  that  he 
could  "  bring  in  industrious  observations,  grounded  con- 
clusions, and  profitable  inventions  and  discoveries  ;  the 
best  state  of  that  province.  This,  whether  it  be  curiosity 
or  vainglory,  or  nature,  or  (if  one  take  it  favourably) 
philanthropia,  is  so  fixed  in  my  mind  as  it  cannot  be  re- 
moved." 

It  never  was  removed,  and  all  his  life  long  this  marvel- 
lous and  mysterious  *  man  could  have  truly  said  of  the 
"  Cup  of  Knowledge  "  in  a  line  of  his  own  Sonnets  (cxiv.), 

"  And  my  great  minde  most  kingly  drinkes  it  up." 

And  with  him  it  would  not  have  been  a  vain  or  foolish 
boast.  If  ever  there  was  a  great  and  kingly  intellect,  it 
was  that  of  Francis  Bacon,  the  "  broad-brow'd  Verulam." 
That  intellectual  philanthropia  never  was  removed 
while  he  was  one  of  the  breathers  of  the  world,  and  w^hen 
the  inevitable  hour  came,  and  he  had  to  meet  the 

"  Barren  rage  of  death's  eternal  cold," 

he  could  again  say  truly,  "/  have,  though  in  a  despised 
weed,  sought  the  good  of  all  meny  And  wrapping  himself 
round  with  his  virtues  as  with  a  cloak,  he  glides  away, 

*  Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Epigram  on  Bacon's  sixteenth  birthday  in  1621  : 

"And  in  the  midst 
Thou  stand'st  as  if  some  mystery  thou  didst." 


NEXT   DOOR   TO   A   MIRACLE  335 

still  a  mystery,  from  the  knowledge  of  his  generation,  and 
leaves  his  fame  and  his  secret  to  the  generations  to  come. 
In  prose  Bacon  wrote  only  one  important  work  of  the 
imagination,  and  that  but  a  fragment — The  New  Atlantis  ; 
but  he  has  put  into  it  more  of  himself,  his  aims,  his  desires, 
his  tastes,  and  his  ideals,  than  into  any  other  prose  work 
we  have  from  him,  and  we  see  there  the  manner  of  man 
he  was  at  heart.    As  Dr.  Abbott  weU  remarks : 

"  Rising  from  the  perusal  of  this  little  book  we  can  better 
understand  Bacon's  whole  life  and  character,  and  especially  his 
unbounded  self-respect,  and  the  self-confidence  which  was  the 
source  of  some  of  his  best  literary  efforts,  and  some  of  his  worst 
political  errors.  .  .  .  He  always  regarded  himself  as  a  philan- 
thropist on  a  large  scale,  a  true  Priest  of  Science,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Father  of  Salomon's  House,  having  in  his  heart 
that  true  philanthropia  which  is  '  the  character  of  God  Himself.'  '* 

In  my  opinion  we  are  not  far  from  the  time  when 
our  fellow-countrymen  and  the  English-speaking  peoples 
throughout  the  world  will  unanimously  admit  that  the 
most  wonderful  genius  that  ever  spoke  and  wrote  the 
English  language  was  the  man  who  combined  in  one  brainy 
and  produced  from  one  brain,  the  Essays  and  Philosophy 
of  Francis  Bacon  and  the  Plays,  Sonnets,  and  Poems  of 
William  Shake-speare — undoubtedly  the  greatest  miracle 
of  intellect  the  world  has  ever  seen,  and  a  most  extra- 
ordinary termination  of  the  greatest  literary  mystification 
that  ever  passed  unchallenged  for  nearly  three  hundred 
years.  That  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  should  live  for  years 
in  the  same  city  and  neither  know  nor  mention  each 
other — being  such  men  as  they  were — is  an  astonishing 
fact.  That  two  men  should  write  such  an  enormous 
amount  of  original  literary  matter,  matter  so  unlike  and 
so  superior  to  what  their  contemporaries  could  produce, 
is  an  acknowledged  marvel  in  the  case  of  each  of  them. 
But  that  one  of  them,  viz..  Bacon,  wrote  his  own  works 
and  the  other  man's  as  well,  is  next  door  to  a  miracle, 
and  has  been  voted  an  impossibility  by  millions.  And 
how  could  Bacon,  whose  last  and  supreme  poetical  effort 
was  a  doggerel  translation  of  a  few  of  the  Psalms,  by  any 


336  A   DIFFICULTY   OVERCOME 

possibility  write  Venus  and  Adonis,  the  Sonnets,  and  that 
marvellous  poetry  of  the  highest  order  of  expression  con- 
tained in  the  Plays  ? 

Such  things  do  seem  impossible  when  first  stated  in 
their  bare  simplicity ;  and  that  is  why  so  many  people 
are  orthodox  and  follow  their  fathers'  and  grandfathers' 
beliefs  on  the  subject,  and  why  so  few  are  heterodox  or 
Baconians.  But  the  more  the  matter  is  looked  into,  the 
more  difficult  does  the  Shakespeare  hypothesis  become, 
and  the  more  easy  the  Baconian.  Insuperable  difficulties 
seem  to  disappear,  or  to  be  so  modified  as  to  be  almost 
negligible.  I  hope  it  will  not  be  thought  egotism  if  I  give 
a  part  of  my  own  case. 

I  was  orthodox  like  my  forebears  for  many  years.  I 
heard  occasionally  of  the  Baconian  heresy,  but  I  had  an 
"  insuperable  difficulty  "  which  quite  prevented  me  be- 
coming a  heretic.  I  thought  some  of  the  heretical  argu- 
ments very  forcible,  but  my  "  insuperable  difficulty " 
effectually  prevented  me  from  following  up  such  argu- 
ments. This  was  my  difficulty  :  I  could  not  believe  that 
Bacon,  whose  highest  and  most  serious  effort  in  poetry 
seemed  to  have  been  reached  in  his  translation  of  a  few 
of  the  Psalms  in  his  old  age,  could  have  possibly  produced, 
at  any  time  of  his  life,  the  Sonnets,  the  Plays,  or  the 
Poems.  However,  one  day  I  bought  from  an  old  book- 
stall a  little  book  of  Greek  Epigrams,  with  Latin  trans- 
lations, for  the  modest  sum  of  sixpence,  being  attracted 
by  a  very  pretty  printer's  mark  (Felix  Kyngston)  on  the 
title-page.  On  looking  into  it  at  home  I  found  to  my 
surprise  an  English  poem  in  it,  translated  into  similar 
rhyming  Greek  verse  by  Thomas  Farnaby  the  famous 
schoolmaster,  who  attributed  the  English  Poem  to  Lord 
Verulam.     The  first  verse  was  : 

"The  world's  a  bubble  and  the  life  of  man  lesse  than  a  span, 
In  his  conception  wretched,  from  the  wombe  so  to  the  tombe  ; 
Curst  from  the  cradle,  and  brought  up  to  yeares   with  cares 

and  feares 
Who  then  to  fraile  mortality  shall  trust 
But  limmes  the  water,  or  but  writes  in  dust." 


A   DIFFICULTY   OVERCOME  337 

I  remember  that  I  thought  the  last  two  hnes  rather 
good,  and  that  Farnaby's  authority  was  contemporary  and 
sufficient.  This  made  me  read  Bacon's  Psalms  again, 
and  they  seemed  more  passable  ;  and  the  thought  struck 
me  that  as  Bacon  was  known  to  have  in  a  high  degree 
the  faculty  of  throwing  himself  into  the  character  he 
wished  to  represent,  and  to  adapt  his  literary  expression 
to  the  peculiarities  of  the  person  represented,  so  he  had 
proceeded  here,  and  had  attempted  the  Psalms  in  the 
popular  manner  of  Sternhold  and  Hopkins  and  the  other 
writers  of  the  old  version  of  the  Psalter.  The  Elizabethan 
Psalms  were  written  down  to  the  level  of  the  people,  and 
if  they  had  been  more  poetically  translated,  and  finer  or 
loftier  language  used,  they  would  not  have  been  so  accept- 
able to  the  class  of  people  for  whom  they  were  mainly 
intended.  There  was  an  archaic  roughness  of  metre  which 
those  people  expected  and  preferred.  I  thought  therefore 
that  Bacon  had  most  probably  adapted  his  Muse  to 
those  same  ends,  and  hence  the  apparently  low  stan- 
dard of  poetry.  Thus  did  I  leap  over  my  "  insuperable 
difficulty,"  and  it  has  not  troubled  me  since.  Besides, 
I  know  that  Bacon,  to  use  his  favourite  expression, 
would  always  wish  to  "  chalk  a  door  "  for  his  reception 
rather  than  try  to  enter  by  force,  "  pugnacity,  or  con- 
tention." 

But  some  one  may  object  to  me  that  after  all  I 
have  said  as  to  the  reasons  why  Bacon  did  not  ac- 
knowledge his  dramatic  works,  such  as — (i)  fear  of 
offence  to  friends  and  relations,  especially  his  mother ; 
(2)  damage  to  his  own  political  reputation  and  pros- 
pects ;  (3)  danger  of  associating  his  name  with  the 
public  exposition  on  the  stage  of  historical  incidents 
and  characters,  whereby  charges  of  treason  and  heresy 
might  be  incurred  —  that  still  I  have  given  no  good 
reason  why  Bacon  should  not  have  acknowledged  the 
immortal  dramas  either  by  his  will  or  just  before  his 
death.  There  was  no  Lady  Anne  then  to  fear,  no  poli- 
tical prospects  to  damage,  no  danger  of  a  charge  of 
treason  then. 

Y 


338  WHY   THE   SECRET   WAS   KEPT 

This  has  seemed  another  "  insuperable  objection  "  to 
many  people,  and  is  undoubtedly  a  strong  argument 
against  the  Baconian  authorship.  The  only  reasons  that 
struck  me  (and  I  think  I  have  mentioned  them  somewhere 
in  this  volume)  were  that  this  "  last  confession  "  would 
call  attention  to  the  scandal  of  the  Sonnets,  and  Southamp- 
ton and  other  parties  concerned  were  still  alive.  That 
was  one  grave  and  forcible  reason  ;  and  another  might  be 
that  Bacon  still  hoped,  even  to  his  dying  day,  to  take  his 
seat  in  the  august  assembly  of  the  House  of  Lords,  and 
felt  that  the  acknowledged  authorship  of  the  actor's  plays 
would  be  a  decided  bar  to  that.  Or  again,  it  has  been 
supposed  that  his  great  admiration  for  Natural  Philosophy, 
and  his  devotion  to  it  in  his  later  years,  had  made  him 
undervalue  the  former  fruits  of  his  invention,  which  after 
all  he  always  considered  as  works  of  his  "  recreation," 
and  not  as  the  serious  business  of  his  life.  In  his  great 
mind  eventually  they  did  not  bear  comparison  with  his 
Instauratio  Magna,  his  Novum  Organum,  and  his  other 
philosophical  treatises,  which  he  was  so  careful  to  have 
turned  into  Latin  so  that  they  might  "  live  "  to  future 
ages.  The  "  recreations  "  and  the  poems  might  die  for 
any  Resuscitatio  that  should  ever  come  from  his  living 
lips  ;  but  he  must  have  known  that  some  of  them,  perhaps 
many  more  than  we  know,  bore  his  private  mark  stamped 
on  their  head  and  tail,  and  that  was  left  to  the  next  ages 
and  to  the  eyes  of  future  generations  to  discover.  If, 
however,  these  reasons  seem  insufficient  for  such  a  tre- 
mendous difficulty,  I  will  add  another  which  has  lately 
come  under  my  notice,  and  seems  sweetly  reasonable,  for 
I  firmly  believe  that  our  greatest  EngHshman  died  a  truly 
religious  man. 

I  will  introduce  it  by  quoting  Henry  Vaughan  from 
the  preface  of  his  Silex  Scintillans,  1655. 

"  It  is  a  sentence  of  sacred  authority  that  he  that  is  dead  is 
freed  from  sin ;  because  he  cannot  in  that  state  which  is  without 
the  body,  sin  any  more ;  but  he  that  writes  idle  books  makes  for 
himself  another  body  in  which  he  lives  and  sins  after  death  as 
fast  and  as  foul  as  ever  he  did  in  his  life :  which  consideration 


A  PATHETIC   RENUNCIATION  339 

deserves  to  be  a  sufficient  antidote  against  this  foul  disease.  .  .  . 
I  myself  have  for  many  years  languished  of  this  very  sickness ; 
and  it  is  no  long  time  since  I  have  recovered.  .  .  .  The  first 
that  with  any  effectual  success  attempted  a  diversion  of  this 
font  and  ever-flowing  stream  (of  vain  and  vicious  books)  was 
the  blessed  man  Mr.  George  Herbert,  whose  holy  life  and  verse 
gained  many  pious  converts,  of  whom  I  am  the  least ;  and  gave 
the  first  check  to  a  most  flourishing  and  admired  Wit  of  his 
time." 

What  if  Francis  Bacon  v^as  the  greatest  of  these 
'*  pious  converts  "  of  whom  Vaughan  professed  himself 
the  "  least  "  ?  Many  things  are  more  unlikely,  for  Bacon, 
we  are  told,  "  put  such  a  value  on  "  George  Herbert's 
judgment,  "  that  he  usually  desired  his  approbation 
before  he  would  expose  any  of  his  books  to  be  printed, 
and  thought  him  so  worthy  of  his  friendship,  that 
having  translated  many  of  the  prophet  David's  Psalms 
into  English  verse,  he  made  George  Herbert  his  patron 
by  a  public  dedication  of  them  to  him,  as  the  best  judge 
of  divine  poetry."  * 

What  if  one  of  the  greatest  masters  of  varied  poetic 
expression  made  a  renunciation  of  that  most  excellent 
gift  in  his  later  years,  and  put  all  his  best  thoughts  on 
other  objects,  and  despised  comparatively  that  immortal 
possession  and  inheritance  of  his,  that  KTrjixa  ek  dec,  the 
Plays  of  Shake-speare  ?  Well,  he  did,  there  is  really  no 
question  about  it  at  all.  Hear  his  own  words  in  the  De 
Augmentis  Scientiarum  (1623).  "  Poesy  is  as  it  were  a 
dream  of  learning  :  a  thing  sweet  and  varied  and  fain  to 
be  thought  partly  divine,  a  quality  which  dreams  also 
sometimes  affect.  But  now  it  is  time  for  me  to  become 
fully  awake,  to  lift  myself  up  from  the  earth,  and  to  wing 
my  way  through  the  liquid  ether  of  philosophy  and  the 
sciences." 

This  is  a  pathetic  renunciation,  contained  in,  and 
surrounded  by,  the  prose  of  a  scientific  work  ;  but  had 
not  the  same  master-mind  some  years  before,  under  the 

*  Life  of  Herbert ^  by  Izaak  Walton. 


340  BACON   GRIEVES   FOR   ARIEL 

guise  of  Prospero,  in  that  last  great  semi-masque  The 
Tempest,  expressed  the  same  resolve  : 

"  But  this  rough  magic 
I  here  abjure. 

I'll  break  my  staff, 
Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth, 
And  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound, 
I'll  drown  my  book." 

And  then  his  "  dainty  Ariel "  is  dismissed  somewhat 
regretfully.  *'  I  shall  miss  thee,"  he  says,  but  his  decision 
is  to  devote  himself  to  his  only  daughter,  the  adorable 
Miranda. 

I  must  admit  that  all  this  last  reasoning  about  Bacon's 
renouncing  the  vain  delights  and  dreams  of  Poesy  is  hardly 
consistent  with  the  preparation  of  the  first  folio  for  publica- 
tion in  co-operation  with  Ben  Jonson,  which  is  my  as- 
sumption throughout ;  but  it  may  partly  account  for 
the  folio  not  being  claimed  by  its  rightful  author,  and  in 
any  case  Bacon's  view  of  Poesy  in  1623,  and  no  doubt 
earlier,  is,  I  think,  worthy  of  record.  I  owe  it  to  an  Essay 
on  Shakespeare-Bacon,  which  is  anonymous,  but  has  a 
postscript  signed  "  E.  W.  S. :  Rome,  March  1899."  It  is 
one  of  the  best  contributions  to  the  controversy  that  I 
know. 

Most  people  think  that  the  very  fact  of  Shakespeare's 
name  being  signed  in  full  to  the  dedication  of  Venus  and 
Adonis  quite  settles  the  authorship,  and  that  to  attempt 
to  upset  such  plain  evidence  is  the  work  only  of  self- 
deluded  cranks.  But  the  fact  is,  that  the  majority  of 
Shakespeare  readers  are  unable  properly  to  grasp  the 
situation.  Concealed  and  feigned  authorship  was  not  an 
unheard-of  thing  in  those  days  by  any  means.  Greene 
tells  us  this  in  his  Farewell  to  Folly  (1591).  "  Others — 
if  they  come  to  write  or  publish  anything  in  print — which 
for  their  calling  and  gravity  being  loth  to  have  any  pro- 
fane pamphlets  pass  under  their  hand,  get  some  other  to 
set  his  name  to  their  verses.  Thus  is  the  ass  made  proud 
by  this  underhand  brokery."    I  certainly  think  there  was 


THE   WAY   TO   STATE   THE   PROBLEM      341 

"brokery"  at  work  in  the  matter  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays  and  Poems. 

One  reason  for  the  determined  and  obstinate  opposition 
to  the  Bacon  hypothesis  is  the  way  in  which  the  heresy 
is  stated.     Often  enough,  indeed  far  too  often,  it  is  put 
in  the  bald  form  "  Bacon  wrote  Shakespeare  "  ;   which  is 
almost  like  a  blow  in  the  face  to  devoted  Shakespearians 
of  all  degrees.     It  is  an  irritating  way  of  stating  the 
case,  especially  to  many  who,  like  myself,  think  it  an 
incorrect   and  loose  statement.     If  people  would  only 
set  forth  the  heresy  in  the  way   I   am  now   going   to 
suggest,  it  would  be  much  less  annoying,  much  more  likely 
to  be  listened  to  and  accepted,  and,  in  my  opinion,  much 
nearer  the  truth.     Don't  say  "  Bacon  wrote  Shakespeare," 
for  at  first  blush  it  sounds  absurd  both  to  the  learned  and 
unlearned,  but  invert  the  proposition  thus  :  "  There  seems 
strong   evidence   that   Shakespeare,    the   shrewd   actor- 
manager,  was  always  ready  to  use  up  for  his  stage  pur- 
poses any  suitable  plays,  new  or  old,  that  came  into  his 
hands  ;   he  would  '  take  up  all '  and  think  no  particular 
harm  of  it.     He  was  in  the  habit  of  '  gagging '  as  well ; 
Ben  Jonson  hints  at  that  practice  being  used  in  one  of 
his  plays,  and  Ben  took  the  trouble  to  exclude  the  actor- 
manager's  stage  additions  from  the  printed  copy.     But 
with  so  many  book-pirates  about,  it  was  impossible  for 
Bacon  to  exclude  the  stage  gag,  and  so  no  doubt  it  forms 
part  of  the  immortal  plays ;  but  only  a  small  part  for- 
tunately.    There  is  also  strong  evidence  that  very  many 
of  the  Plays  that  Shakespeare  took  up,  and  which  passed 
under  his  name,  really  came  in  the  main  from  Francis 
Bacon.     Putting   aside   many   suspicious    circumstances 
connected  with  their  production  both  first  and  last,  which 
rather  tell  against  the  Stratford  man,  the  Plays  possess  a 
language,  a  philosophy,  and  a  learning  which  preponder- 
antly point  to  the  great  Francis  Bacon,  as  against  any 
other  writer  of  that- period." 

Shakespeare's  friends  and  feUow-actors  must  have 
known  very  well  whether  Shakespeare  was  equal  to 
writing   something    for   the   stage,   or   whether  he   was 


342  THE   NEW  EVIDENCE 

unequal  to  such  an  effort  altogether.  No  doubt  Shake- 
speare could  gag  if  required,  could  touch  up  and  add  to 
old  plays  and  arrange  them  for  the  stage.  All  his  friends 
must  have  known  that,  or  supposed  it,  and  that  is  why 
his  productions  were  received  as  a  rule  without  comment 
or  derision.  He  was  a  "  broker  "  of  plays,  and  managed 
to  get  some  first-class  work  into  his  hands  ;  we  must  give 
his  fellow-actors  Burbage  and  Kemp,  and  Lewin  and 
Amim,  and  such-Hke  persons  "  behind  the  scenes,"  credit 
for  being  sharp  enough  to  know  that.  But  he  was  a 
"  shrewd  fellow  "  and  honest  in  his  dealings,  and  could 
send  out  scrip  that  beat  all  the  University  men's  work  ; 
and  he  was  a  peaceable,  good-natured  fellow,  was  gentle 
Shakespeare,  and  patrons  of  the  drama  and  men  of 
worship  spoke  well  of  him ;  and  he  had  a  facetious  manner 
of  writing,  and  quick  natural  talent  too.  And  so  Shake- 
speare's Plays  were  a  success,  and  Shake-speare  deserved 
it,  they  said.  Somehow  thus  must  we  account  for  the 
attitude  of  the  age. 

It  has  been  possible  to  use  this  statement  for  many 
years  now,  and  if  the  heresy  could  have  confined  itself  to 
such  statements  and  to  the  proofs  of  them,  and  if  also  the 
cranks  and  fanatics  and  "  frauds  "  had  been  kept  out  of 
the  controversy,  then  I  think  the  world  of  literature  would 
have  turned  Baconian  long  before  now.  Moreover,  if  the 
present  writer  be  thought  worthy  of  notice,  a  stronger 
statement  can  now  be  made  in  addition  to  the  above.  It 
can,  I  hope,  now  be  said  :  "  There  is  also  apparently  good 
external,  internal,  and  direct  evidence  that  Francis  Bacon 
wrote  Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  and  the  Sonnets,  and 
since  it  is  an  admitted  axiom  that  the  man  who  wrote  the 
vShakespeare  Poems  and  Sonnets  also  wrote  the  Plays,  we 
must  now  give  up  the  Stratford  Shaksper  with  the  best 
grace  we  can,  and  allow  Bacon  his  glorious  seat  wellnigh 
on  the  highest  peak  of  Parnassus." 

The  facts  that  Shakespeare's  name  appeared  on  the 
title-pages  of  his  Plays  and  was  never  objected  to  at  the 
time,  that  no  one  of  his  contemporary  playwrights  ever 
claimed  the  Plays,  that  his  authorship  of  them  was  gene- 


ELIZABETHAN   METHODS  343 

rally  admitted  by  the  public,  have  always  been  held  by 
the  orthodox  party  to  be  facts  that  could  not  possibly  be 
put  aside  or  denied.  But  these  facts  are  always  taken  to 
be  much  stronger  than  they  really  are.  If  properly 
weighed  as  evidence  they  are  very  light.  We  must  not 
estimate  them  according  to  modem  literary  standards. 
Authors  and  printers  alike,  in  Elizabethan  days,  were 
constantly  deceiving  people  as  to  the  authorship  of  the 
books  that  were  published,  and  were  often  "  hand  and 
glove  "  together  in  managing  it.  Authors  frequently  put 
on  the  mask  of  their  printer,  especially  on  the  threshold, 
or  in  the  vestibule  of  their  books.  Gervase  Markham  and 
others  are  well  known  to  have  done  this,  and  also  to  have 
joined  with  other  authors  in  producing  plays,  and  the  joint 
production  would  go  before  the  public  in  the  name  of  one 
author  only.  Consequently,  in  many  cases  people  could 
never  be  sure  who  had  helped  in  the  work  besides  the  man 
whose  name  was  on  the  title-page.  Curiosity  was  rather 
repressed  than  stimulated  by  this  collaboration  of  authors, 
for  if  there  was  little  chance  of  finding  out  what  special 
parts  each  author  wrote,  what  was  the  use  of  making 
curious  inquiries  about  them  ? 

So  when  William  Shakespeare's  name  began  to  appear 
on  the  printed  Plays  in  1597  and  1598,  no  one  had  any- 
thing particular  to  say  about  it.  There  was  no  literary 
enthusiasm,  no  great  discovery  of  a  new  genius.  William 
Shakespeare  was,  I  suppose,  pretty  well  known  as  an 
active  factotum  who  had  to  get  somehow  or  other  as  many 
plays  for  the  theatre  as  he  could.  They  appeared  under 
his  name ;  there  was  nothing  strange  to  people  in  that,  and 
so  long  as  Shakespeare's  Plays  were  attractive  no  one 
troubled  much  as  to  where  they  came  from.  That  was 
Mr.  Shakespeare's  business,  not  theirs.  A  fellow-player 
or  critic,  here  and  there,  might  hint,  and  did  hint,  that 
this  active  factotum  of  the  stage  did  not  supply  aU  the 
wool  for  the  new  materials  offered  to  the  public,  but  only 
a  few  shreds  ;  or  again  hint  that  "  his  feathers  might  be 
very  fine,  but  were  they  his  own  ?  "  But  for  the  general 
public,  whether  against  plays  or  fond  of  them,  whether 


344  OBJECTIONS   MET 

Puritan  or  gallant,  the  authorship  or  qualifications  of 
Shakespeare  troubled  them  not  for  one  moment.  For 
these  and  other  reasons  I  hold  that  the  "  otiose  assent " 
of  contemporaries  to  Shakespeare  being  the  man  who 
wrote  the  Plays,  is  not  a  proof  of  much  importance. 

One  favourite  argument  against  the  Baconian  author- 
ship of  the  Sonnets  is,  that  they  are  so  thoroughly  unlike, 
in  tone  and  manner,  the  staid  and  learned  philosopher  of 
Gorhambury.  But  look  at  the  case  of  the  learned  and 
religious  Giles  Fletcher,  D.D.  ;  who  would  have  expected 
that  he  would  write  such  a  collection  of  amatory  sonnets 
as  Licia  (1593,  4to)  ?  They  were  anonymous,  and  no  one 
suspected  the  real  author  till  a  few  years  ago,  when  he 
was  found  out  by  some  one  noticing  an  allusion  in  the 
ninth  stanza  of  the  First  Piscatory  Dialogue,  written  by 
his  son.  This  divine  did  not,  like  Bacon,  show  his  own 
head,  but  his  son  showed  it  for  him. 

Moreover,  it  was  not  at  all  unusual  for  a  man  in  Francis 
Bacon's  position  at  Gray's  Inn  to  be  mixed  up  with  stage 
matters  and  dramatic  pageants  and  court  interludes. 
Indeed,  it  was  to  a  man  who  almost  in  all  things  held 
a  similar  position  in  life  to  Francis  Bacon  that  we 
owe  the  beginnings  of  the  historic  drama.  Ferrers,  a 
lawyer,  who  maintained  himself  in  court  favour  under 
Henry,  Edward,  Mary,  and  Ehzabeth,  was  noted  as  a 
director  of  dramatic  pageants,  and  he  it  was  who  com- 
posed the  first  Enghsh  historic  legend  in  the  Mirror  for 
Magistrates  in  1559.  There  were  nineteen  legends,  from 
the  reigns  of  Richard  II.,  Henry  IV.,  Henry  V.,  Henry  VI., 
&c.,  and  Ferrers  was  responsible  for  three.  If  one  lawyer 
— Ferrers — ^laid  such  a  good  foundation  for  the  historic 
drama,  why  should  not  another  lawyer — Bacon — build 
upon  it  ? 

Only  a  few  years  later  another  novelty  was  added  to 
the  drama.  This  too  came  from  the  lawyers,  and  was 
carried  out  amongst  them.  In  1566,  George  Gascoigne 
translated  from  Ariosto,  for  representation  at  Gray's  Inn, 
the  prose  comedy  Gli  Suppositi.  This,  acted  under  the 
title  of  The  Supposes,  is  the  first  comedy  written  in  English 


SHAKESPEARE   NO   MERE   MASK  345 

prose,  and  was  thought  good  enough  to  be  borrowed  from 
in  the  underplot  of  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew.  And  who 
was  George  Gascoigne  ?  We  are  told  he  was  "  well-born, 
tenderly-fostered,  and  delicately  accompanied."  He  was 
sent  to  Cambridge,  and  thence  proceeded  to  the  Inns  of 
Court.  Entering  into  the  fashion  of  the  time,  he  wrote 
love-verses  which  gained  him  no  credit  with  the  graver 
sort.  Aspiring  to  political  distinction,  he  sat  some  time 
as  a  burgess  for  Bedford.  When  play-writing  became  the 
rage  he  at  once  figured  in  the  front  of  playwrights.  He 
was  very  extravagant ;  and  being  disinherited,  he  sought 
to  retrieve  his  fortunes  by  marrying  a  rich  widow.  So 
far  his  biography  is  very  like  that  of  Francis  Bacon,  but 
afterwards  he  came  to  grief  socially,  and  went  to  fight 
under  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  the  end  of  his  days  was 
not  fortunate.  However,  his  early  biography  shows  that 
there  was  no  bar  or  boycott  if  a  man  of  good  birth  and 
position  wrote  for  the  stage. 

Why  then,  it  may  be  asked,  was  there  so  much  con- 
cealment in  Bacon's  case  ?  Surely  Lady  x\nne's  rooted 
objection  to  the  play-houses  would  not  sufficiently  account 
for  it ;  and  granting  this  as  for  the  plays,  why  should 
Bacon  have  all  his  life  long  been  a  concealed  poet,  and 
professed  "  not  to  be  a  poet  "  at  all  ?  May  not  his  early 
love-poems  to  young  men,  the  peculiar  circumstances 
connected  with  them,  and  some  current  vulgar  scandal 
to  boot,  all  have  tended  to  make  Bacon  renounce  any 
open  profession  of  poetry,  and  to  try  to  conceal  his 
identity  and  connection  with  this  kind  of  literature 
altogether — nay,  more,  to  pass  it  off  under  another's 
name  ? 

My  arguments  throughout  are  chiefly  concerned  with 
the  Sonnets  and  Poems,  which  are  comparatively  new 
ground  for  the  Bacon  theory.  As  may  be  supposed,  I 
strongly  hold  that  Francis  Bacon  wrote  at  least  the  finer 
passages  of  the  Plays,  and  that  the  frequent  revisions  and 
additions  were  due  to  his  habit  of  constantly  rewriting 
and  altering  his  work.  But  it  must  not  be  thought  that 
I   consider   Shakespeare   a  mere  mask   for   Bacon   and 


346  THE   EARLY   PLAYS 

nothing  more.  I  know  some  hold  this  view.  I  cannot 
support  it  for  a  moment. 

I  think  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  depreciate  Shake- 
speare's professional  and  business  capabilities.  He  could 
hardly  have  been  the  successful  man  he  was  without 
possessing  them  in  a  high  degree.  Mere  money  gifts  by 
Southampton  or  Bacon  would  never  have  permanently 
enriched  an  incapable  or  ordinary  playwright.  By  the 
year  1594  Shakespeare  had  served,  as  it  were,  a  seven 
years'  apprenticeship,  and  a  most  "industrious  apprentice" 
he  had,  without  doubt,  been  ;  one  worthy  of  the  canvas 
of  a  contemporary  Hogarth.  From  this  year  he  takes  his 
place  as  one  of  the  chief  actors  in  the  principal  company 
in  London,  and  he  is  the  acknowledged  writer  of  the  most 
popular  love-poems  of  the  time.  This  last  qualification 
was  by  far  the  most  esteemed  by  all  people.  Lucrece  and 
Adonis  were  far  above  any  plays.  Poems  were,  it  was 
thought,  fit  work  for  a  prince,  but  plays  were  connected 
with  strolling  vagabondism  only. 

I  do  not  profess  to  be  a  critic  of  the  Plays  or  of  their 
assumed  dates.  With  our  present  bibliographical  know- 
ledge the  latter  subject  is  too  intricate  and  obscure  to 
handle  with  any  confidence.  But  I  submit  that  we  give 
many  of  the  Plays  far  too  late  a  date  for  their  original 
conception  and  production.  Especially  is  that  the  case  for 
many  of  the  Plays  which  appeared  for  the  first  time  in 
print  in  the  first  folio  of  1623.  Such  plays  as  The  Two 
Gentlemen  of  Verona,  As  You  Like  It,  AlVs  Well  that  Ends 
Well,  and  others  not  published  till  1623,  may  well  have 
been  written  about  the  time  that  Shakespeare  first  came 
to  London,  or  a  year  or  two  later.  Indeed,  this  has 
seemed  so  probable  with  some  Shakespearians  that  they 
have  suggested  that  young  William  brought  several  of 
these  MS.  plays  up  to  town  with  him,  carefully  stowed 
away  in  his  pocket  when  he  first  left  Stratford  for  good. 

Such  views  undoubtedly  favour  the  Baconian  author- 
ship. For  Francis  Bacon  was  the  elder  of  the  two  men, 
both  in  years  and  experience  of  life  ;  he  had  far  greater 
educational  facilities,  and  considerably  more  leisure  time 


LOGIC   OR   INTUITION?  347 

at  Gray's  Inn  for  writing  and  thinking  and  seeing  the 
fashionable  world,  so  admirably  depicted  in  the  early 
plays,  than  ever  Shakespeare  had.  And  so  it  seems  far 
more  likely  that  these  precious  and  immortal  MSS.  were 
lying  roughly  sketched  and  ready  for  revision  and  enlarge- 
ment in  his  desk,  rather  than  in  Shakespeare's  pocket. 
Besides,  if  they  were  really  safely  packed  under  the  Swan 
of  Avon's  wings  when  he  took  flight  for  London  town, 
why  did  he  not  bring  them  out  in  his  own  name  at  once  ? 
They  would  not  have  disgraced  him.  He  had  no  strong- 
willed  mother  of  whom  he  stood  in  awe.  He  had  no 
reputation  to  lose,  but  everything  to  gain.  In  fact,  there 
was  only  one  thing  to  prevent  him  from  offering  them  at 
once  to  his  fellow- townsmen  then  in  London,  and  that 
one  thing  was — he  had  not  got  them.  However,  they 
came  in  course  of  time,  and  a  very  good  thing  he  made 
out  of  them.  I  know  this  is  rather  a  vulgar  way  of 
putting  it,  but  sometimes  the  "  man  in  the  street  "  blurts 
out  a  conviction  in  his  own  tongue  which  effectually 
breaks  through  the  elegant  and  finely-spun  meshes  of 
doctrinaire  arguments. 

There  is  the  intuitional  argument  as  well  as  the  logical 
one.  It  may  be  more  liable  to  error,  it  may  be  the  special 
argument  of  the  weaker  sex  and  of  the  uneducated,  but 
it  sometimes  goes  straight  to  the  bull's  eye  which  logic, 
with  all  its  artillery,  fails  to  hit.  Logic  is  of  course  by 
far  the  safer  weapon  of  the  two,  and  I  have  tried  to  make 
the  best  use  I  can  of  it  in  this  present  work.  The  other 
weapon,  the  woman's  weapon,  is  apt  to  be  sometimes 
very  erratic  ;  it  will  even  seem  to  turn  round  at  times  and 
shoot  the  person  who  uses  it.  Some  Baconians,  I  fear, 
have  suffered  in  this  way  ;  it  is  then  called  literary  suicide 
or  literary  self-effacement.  The  man  who  states  publicly 
that  Shakespeare  could  only  write  his  own  name,  and 
hardly  that,  is  a  case  in  point.  The  men  and  women 
who  write  voluminous  and  ridiculous  romances  which 
they  read  letter  by  letter  or  word  by  word  from  Bacon's 
printed  works  are  other  cases  in  point ;  they  are  literary 
self-effacers  or  something  worse.  Such  are  the  necessary 
evils  of  unsupported  and  unrestrained  intuition.    Delia 


348  THE   AUTHOR'S  APOLOGIA 

Bacon  suffered  originally  from  an  attack  of  this  kind 
which  developed  into  something  much  more  pitiable.  It 
has  been  said  of  the  commentators  on  the  last  book  in 
the  Bible,  that  "  the  Apocalypse  either  finds  men  mad 
or  leaves  them  so."  I  pray  that  there  may  never  be 
cause  to  apply  this  remark  either  generally  or  specialty  to 
those  who  meddle  with  the  Bacon-Shakespeare  question. 
To  me  it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  curious  questions 
that  we  meet  with  in  the  whole  domain  of  literary  history, 
and  when  people  say,  as  has  been  said  frequently  to  me, 
What  does  it  matter  whether  Bacon  or  Shakespeare  is 
the  author  ?  I  can  give  no  other  answer  but  a  stare  of 
amazement.  I  feel  I  could  give  an  answer,  but  that  it 
would  be  lost  on  such  questioners. 

I  know  that  he  who  writes  on  this  subject  poses  as 
"  a  crank  "  before  the  great  majority  of  educated  people  ; 
so  it  is  not  an  inviting  field  of  literature  by  any  means, 
and  publishers  say  it  means  a  dead  loss.  Well,  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  me,  and  we  must,  I  suppose,  sometimes  pay 
for  our  pleasures.  But  in  self-defence  I  may  be  allowed 
to  say  this,  that  I  have  endeavoured  to  use  the  safe 
weapon  of  logic  and  reason  wherever  that  weapon  was 
available  ;  but  I  submit  that  the  more  dangerous  weapon 
of  intuition  cannot  be  wholty  dispensed  with  in  this 
contest.  We  must  deal  with  the  prohaUe,  the  possible, 
and  with  what  seems  likely  to  have  occurred  judging 
from  the  facts  before  us.  Here  intuition,  the  historic 
conscience,  and  some  acquaintance  with  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  the  literary  atmosphere  of  the  Tudor  period 
must  go  hand  in  hand  with  bare  logic,  or  the  whole  con- 
troversy becomes  stiff  and  lifeless.  Probability  is  one 
great  guide  of  life,  and  intuition  sometimes  helps  us  to 
what  is  really  probable  better  than  logic  does.  When 
intuition  takes  the  form  of  a  predominant  and  over- 
mastering idea,  then — that  way  madness  lies. 

However,  I  feel  pretty  sane  when  nearing  now  the 
end  of  my  book,  and  if  I  have  had  an  attack,  it  has  been 
a  very  mild  one.  For  I  have  certainly  no  predominant 
idea,  which  my  mind  would  steadfastly  refuse  to  give  up, 
on  this  vexed  question.    With  me  it  is  an  intensely 


AND   FINAL   APPEAL  349 

interesting  and  difficult  problem — a  kind  of  literary  chess 
problem,  where  there  are  very  many  possible  moves,  and 
much  foresight  and  general  knowledge  of  the  game  is 
necessary  to  become  a  good  player.  I  have  studied  the 
game  because  it  interests  me,  and  therefore  I  feel  that  I 
am  somewhat  more  capable  of  making  a  fairly  correct 
move  than  an  ordinary  policeman  or  detective,  or  even 
Sherlock  Holmes  himself,  and  certainly  more  capable 
than  the  city  men  who  go  down  first-class  or  in  a  Pullman 
car  to  their  daily  business  ;  for  from  my  own  experience 
they  seem  to  have,  as  a  rule,  no  knowledge  of  the  game 
and  no  interest  in  it.  But  perhaps  I  have  travelled  in 
the  wrong  carriage  and  conversed  with  the  wrong  people. 

Finally,  then,  I  wish  this  work  to  be  considered 
tentative,  and  not  the  creature  of  a  predominant  idea. 
I  would  give  up  my  Rival  Poet  and  my  Dark  Lady,  would 
renounce  Mary  Fitton  and  all  the  Adonis-like  young 
damsels  with  their  doublet  and  hose,  and  the  codpiece 
which  may  have  taken  Bacon's  curious  fancy  ;  I  would 
renounce  them  all,  or  any  other  false  or  irregular  moves 
I  may  have  made  in  this  difficult  game ; — nay,  I  would 
suffer  fools  gladly  and  take  a  checkmate  from  wise  critics 
with  a  joyful  countenance,  if  they  will  only  treat  the 
matter  seriously  and  play  fair. 

I  have  already  made  this  appeal  in  the  Preface  or 
Vestibule  of  this  House  of  Controversy,  and  having 
passed  through  various  chambers  I  have  now  arrived 
at  the  back  door  or  exit.  I  here  repeat  my  appeal,  make 
my  bow,  and  leave  my  literary  card : — 

So,  Reviewers,  save  my  Bacon, 
O  let  not  Folly  mar  Delight ; 
Here  my  name  and  claim  unriddle. 
All  ye  who  fix  the  italics  right. 
The  discoverer  in  the  middle 
My  last  book  will  to  me  unite. 


APPENDIX 


OF 


LITERARY     CURIOS 

CONNECTED   WITH 

THE    BACON-SHAKESPEARE 
PROBLEM 


APPENDIX 


THE   "TEMPEST"  ANAGRAM 

Among  the  curiosities  of  the  literature  of  the  Bacon-Shakespeare 
theory,  there  is  hardly  a  more  remarkable  one  than  what  is  called 
the  Tempest  Anagram.  Who  the  ingenious  discoverer  was,  and 
when  it  was  first  given  to  the  public,  I  know  not.  I  first  met 
with  it  in  Notes  and  Queries^  and  I  think  it  worthy  of  reproduc- 
tion here  outside  the  body  of  my  evidence. 

The  anagram  is  formed  from  the  last  two  lines  of  the  Epilogue 
to  The  Tempest^  viz.  : 

"  As  you  from  crimes  would  pardon'd  be. 
Let  your  indulgence  set  me  free." 

Anagram. 

"  Tempest  of  Francis  Bacon,  Lord  Verulam, 
Do  ye  ne'er  divulge  me  ye  words." 

This  Tempest  anagram  is,  to  say  the  very  least  in  its  favour, 
a  remarkable  coincidence.  Take  the  supposition  that  Bacon, 
or  the  editor  of  the  folio  collection  of  printed  and  unprinted 
plays  in  1623,  wished  to  insert  a  cryptic  distich  which  contained 
anagrammatically  the  key  to  the  real  authorship  of  the  volume — 
then  I  say  no  more  suitable  and  likely  place  could  be  found, 
for  it  was  the  concluding  distich  of  the  first  play  in  the  book, 
and  of  the  last  play  that  had  been  produced  by  the  author. 
It  was  in  exactly  the  same  position  as  the  two  concluding  lines 
of  Lucrece,  which  gave  us  Bacon  as  the  author  of  that  poem 
by  the  singular  device  we  have  already  noticed.  It  was  the 
Envoy  (I'envoi)  or  last  two  lines  of  the  Epilogue,  and  this  Envoy 
was  generally  supposed  in  sonnets  or  similar  short  poems  to 
have  a  peculiar  significance,  and  if  anything  was  to  be  specially 
conveyed  it  was,  so  to  speak,  relegated  to  this  last  distich,  which 
was  set  back  a  little,  in  the  letterpress,  from  the  preceding  lines 
of  the  sonnet  or  poem.  And  this  was  the  case  in  the  Tempest 
epilogue,  and  in  all  the  Shakespeare  Sonnets  in  their  original 
edition  of  1608. 

353  z 


354  APPENDIX 

And  there  is  this  curious  extra  fact  in  the  original  edition 
of  the  Sonnets,  that  the  famous  Sonnet  cxxvi.,  beginning  "O 
thou,  my  lovely  boy,"  a  sonnet  supposed  to  be  the  Envoy  sonnet 
of  the  whole  first  series  (i.-cxxvi.),  has  of  itself  no  Envoy  at  all, 
but  only  a  blank  space  enclosed  in  brackets,  as  a  sign  that  the 
Envoy  was  either  never  written,  or  else  had  been  blotted  out  or 
erased  by  the  author  for  some  purpose  known  best  to  himself. 
Possibly,  and  I  think  very  probably,  this  missing  distich  or 
Envoy  contained  some  statement  or  allusion  which  would  have 
proved  a  key  to  the  whole  series,  and  therefore  too  dangerous 
to  be  set  down  in  black  and  white,  or  left  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  a  piratic  or  indiscreet  copyist.  In  fact,  the  locale  of  the 
Tempest  anagram  is  exceptionally  appropriate,  and  the  anagram 
and  its  programma  are  both  fairly  suitable,  and  as  to  sense  and 
meaning  are  consonant  with  the  supposed  purpose.  For  the 
anagram  to  be  defective  by  one  letter  is  no  great  objection  in 
one  of  that  length.  And  the  chief  objection,  viz.  that  Francis 
Bacon  was  not  yet  created  Lord  Verulam  when  the  play  was 
originally  written,  is  hardly  a  valid  objection  at  all ;  for  the  very 
assumption  that  we  have  taken  is  that  this  Envoy  (and  perhaps 
the  whole  epilogue)  was  added  of  set  purpose  when  The  Tempest 
was  edited  and  printed  and  put  in  the  forefront  of  the  famous 
folio,  some  years  after  its  first  production  on  the  stage,  and  then 
Lord  Verulam  was  a  correct  title  of  Francis  Bacon. 

THE   FIGURE  ANAGRAM 

This  is  another  ingenious  discovery  in  connection  with  our 
subject,  called  an  anagram  by  a  misnomer ;  for  it  is  really  only 
a  progressive  spelling  out  of  names,  beginning  at  stated  points 
of  a  poem  or  paragraph,  and  ending  exactly  at  the  last  letter  or 
letters  of  the  same. 

The  discoverer,  who  gives  himself  no  other  name  but  that  of 
a '' Shake-spearian,"  takes  Ben  Jonson's  Address  to  the  Reader 
facing  the  famous  Droeshout  engraving,  and  extracts  from  it, 
beginning  always  at  the  letter  F  or  f,  the  following  keys, 
which  sufficiently,  as  he  thinks,  unlock  the  difficult  mystery  of 
authorship. 

Beginning  with  the  first  F  of  the  word  Figure  in  the  first  line 
he  gets  : 

(i)  Francis  Saint  Albans  his  Booke         ....         (Fj) 
in  this  way  :  beginning  with  F  he  next  proceeds  to  look  for  the 


APPENDIX  355 

nearest  letter  r,  and  then  for  the  next  a,  and  so  spelling  steadily 
on  and  not  turning  back,  he  goes  on  till  he  gets  Francis ;  and 
then  still  proceeding  in  the  same  way  to  the  very  last  letters  of 
Ben's  poetical  address,  he  gets  the  decisive  statement  as  above. 

Then  he  takes  the  second  /  in  the  word  for^  in  the  second 
line,  and  proceeding  as  before  right  to  the  end  he  gets 
again  : 

(2)  Francis  Saint  Albans  his  Booke         ....         (Fg) 

There  being  three  more  /'s  he  treats  them  in  the  same  way 
and  gets  : 

(3)  Francis  Saint  Alb.  his  Booke (F3) 

(4)  Francis  Saint  Alb.  his  Booke (F4) 

(5)  Francis  his  Booke  \ 

\ (F5) 

(6)  Francis  B  his  Booke       ) 

But  these  apparently  decisive  readings  do  not  satisfy  our 
persistent  solver  of  enigmas.  He  starts  again  with  the  fourth/ 
and  gets : 

(7)  Francis  Bacon  his  Booke  .        .        .        .        .        (F4) 

From  the  third/— 

(8)  Francis  Bacon  his  Booke (F3) 

From  the  second/— 

(9)  Francis  Bacon  his  Booke (F2) 

From  the  first/— 
(10)  Francis  Bacon  his  Booke (F^) 

These  last  two  spellings  end  on  the  word  "  looke."  In  order 
that  my  readers  may  conveniently  test  the  results  of  Fj,  Fg,  Fg, 
&c.,  I  reproduce  Ben  Jonson's  famous  address  in  the  Folio : 

To  THE  Reader. 

This  Figure  that  thou  here  seest  put 

It  was  for  gentler  Shakespeare  cut ; 
Wherein  the  Graver  had  a  strife 

With  Nature  to  out-doo  the  life  : 
O,  could  he  but  have  drawne  his  wit 

As  well  in  brasse,  as  he  has  hit 
His  face  ;  the  Print  would  then  surpasse 

All,  that  was  ever  writ  in  brasse. 
But  since  he  cannot,  Reader,  looke 

Not  on  his  Picture,  but  his  Booke. 


356  APPENDIX 

I  will  not  leave  this  feast  of  literary  ingenuity  acrvju-^oXog, 
and  therefore  supply  as  my  own  contribution  an  additional  F 
formed  on  the  same  principle  from  the  capital  letters  only  of  Ben 
Jonson's  lines  above,  which  spells  out  FR.B.  or  the  very  head 

which  Bacon  shows  in  the  first  lines  of  Lucrece,  p5.  And 
besides  this,  notice  the  care  and  ingenuity  that  has  been  dis- 
played in  working  up  this  literary  device.  It  is  truly  Baconian, 
for  it  takes  the  vestibule  or  foreword,  and  the  endlines  or  last 
distich,  as  the  places  he  determines  on  for  the  concealment  of 
his  head.  This  was  exactly  the  device  in  Lucrece,  where  we  had 
a  moiety  in  the  foreword  or  vestibule,  and  he  "  saved  his  bacon  " 
till  the  last  couplet.  As  in  Lucrece  he  drew  attention  to  the 
device  by  an  artfully  concealed  phraseology  in  the  dedication, 
so  here  he  draws  attention  (as  I  suggest)  by  a  good  downright 
N.B.  in  the  last  line — the  N  being  in  the  first  word  and  the^ 
in  the  last  word  of  the  concluding  line  of  the  whole  poem. 

I  am  no  believer  in  Mrs.  Gallup,  nor  yet  in  her  ciphers — 
or  any  one's  ciphers  much  ;  but  I  will  back  my  bi-literal  N.B. 
against  hers  any  day.  It  starts  well,  runs  straight,  and  comes 
in  by  a  head  at  the  finish ;  what  more  can  a  backer  want  ? 
However,  I  will  not  back  it  as  a  bookmaker,  and  therefore  it 
is  not  jotted  down  in  the  body  of  my  book,  but  is  put  with  the 
rank  outsiders  in  the  appendix.  But  in  a  fairly  arranged 
"  freak "  handicap,  with  nominations  limited  to  four  litteraires 
only,  I  would  nominate  N.  B.  if  they  would  take  me  as  qualified, 
and  would  nominate  FR.B.  as  well,  and  declare  to  win  with 
FR.B.,  and  back  N.B.  for  a  place. 

WHO   WAS   MR.    HEWS? 

Sonnet  xx. 

In  this  Sonnet,  which  may  be  called  the  "Master-Mistress" 
Sonnet,  both  from  its  using  this  very  expression,  and  also  from 
its  general  tone,  there  is  at  line  seven  the  following  description 
of  that  lovely  youth  to  whom  the  Procreation  Sonnets  and  many 
other  early  ones  were  addressed  : 

"  A  man  in  hew  all  Hews  in  his  controlling." 

This  line  has  exercised  the  critics  and  expounders  very  con- 
siderably, and  mainly  for  this  reason,  that  the  word  Heivs  is  put 
into  itahcs,  and  begins  with  a  capital  letter.     This  evidently  looks 


APPENDIX  357 

prima  facie  as  intending  some  hidden  allusion,  and  I  believe 
that  is  the  correct  view  to  take,  although  I  fear  that  I  can  add 
little  or  nothing  of  an  elucidatory  character. 

But  for  the  amusement  of  those  who  have  not  troubled  to 
make  many  researches  into  the  Sonnets,  I  will  give  a  few  of  the 
solutions,  partly  on  account  of  their  being  literary  curios. 

Almost  the  first  solution  given  was  that  we  had  here  the  full 
name  of  the  mysterious  Mr.  W.  H.,  who  was  the  "sole  begetter  " 
of  the  Sonnets,  and  that  he  was  a  Mr.  W.  Hews  or  Hughes. 
But  as  no  one  ventured  to  fix  upon  any  Mr.  Hughes  who  would 
suit  the  required  conditions,  the  suggestion  fell  to  the  ground,  at 
least  for  some  time.  Some  one  then  thought  of  Hughes  the 
friend  of  Chapman,  but  he  too  was  clearly  out  of  court.  Then 
came  the  ingenious  Mr.  Gerald  Massey,  who  holds  the  record 
for  having  devoted  more  pages  to  the  puzzling  Sonnets  than  any 
two  men  living  or  dead.  He  said :  "  It  is  EWES  that  was 
aimed  at  by  the  double  entendre,  which  leads  us  beyond  the  mere 
name  to  a  person  of  importance;  for  EWE  was  a  title  of 
Essex!  The  earldom  was  that  of  "Essex  and  Ewe."  Thus  Mr. 
Massey  takes  the  line  to  mean  that  Southampton's  "  comeliness 
and  favour  were  far  superior"  to  those  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
favourite  Essex,  and  thus  he  was  in  the  position  to  get  the  upper 
hand  at  court.  "  Such  punning  upon  names  was  a  common 
practice  of  the  time,  and  had  been  done  before  on  this  very 
name."  We  are  then  given  a  quotation  from  Peele  in  his 
Polyhymnia,  speaking  of  Essex : 

"  That  from  his  armour  borrowed  such  a  light, 
As  boughs  of  yew  (  =  Ewe)  receive  from  shady  stream." 
This  seemed  to  Massey  to  settle  the  matter,  and  also  to  exclude 
Herbert  from  being  the  man  addressed,  for  "  Herbert  came  too 
late  for  any  rivalry  with  '  Essex  and  Ewe ' ;  his  rivalry  was  with 
*  young  Carey,'  a  much  later  favourite." 

Ingenious  as  this  was,  it  would  not,  however,  satisfy  a  writer  in 
Blackwood  (May  1901),  who  was  a  pronounced  Herbertite,  and 
was  not  going  to  have  his  theory  spoilt  by  any  Ewes,  or  courtesy 
titles  of  Essex.  He  had  a  courtesy  title  of  Herbert,  Earl  of 
Pembroke  that  would  put  all  the  Ewes  out  of  the  running,  and 
that  was  the  title  Lord  Fitzhugh  or  Fitzhew,  which  belonged  to 
William  Herbert  through  one  of  the  baronies  of  the  Earls  of 
Pembroke.     So  his  solution  was  : 

"  A  man  in  hew — the  Lord  Fitzhew,— the  lord  of  all  the  sons  of 
Hew — all  the  Hews." 


358  APPENDIX 

What  could  be  plainer?  But  it  is  a  hopeless  task  to  please 
everybody,  and  very  soon  up  starts  a  "wild"  theory  that  the 
man  meant  was  the  William  Hughes  who  always  took  women's 
parts  in  Shakespeare's  Company,  and  that  from  the  force  of 
circumstance  and  from  Shakespeare's  (?)  "sportive  blood"  this 
William  Hughes  became  the  master-mistress  of  that  intense 
passion — so  wondrous,  so  un-English,  so  semi-pagan  and  Italian- 
ated ; — that  passion  that  appears  to  us  clothed  in  such  a  robe  of 
beauty  and  with  such  an  exquisite  texture  of  interwoven  words 
and  rhythm  in  the  Sonnets  of  the  ever-living  Poet.  The  dis- 
coverer backs  up  his  theory  by  quotations  and  illustrations 
from  other  Sonnets.  Thus  in  Sonnet  liii.  we  have  Willie 
Hughes  described  in  terms  that  would  most  suitably  represent  a 
quick-change  female  impersonator.  Willie  Hughes  is  a  perfect 
Proteus : 

"  What  is  your  substance,  whereof  are  you  made. 
That  millions  of  strange  shadows  on  you  tend  ? 
Since  every  one  hath,  every  one,  one  shade, 
And  you,  but  one,  can  every  shadow  lend." 

— Sonnet  LIII. 

What  can  this  last  line  mean,  asks  our  wild  (Edipus,  unless  it 
refers  to  him  who  had  all  Hews  or  Hughes  or  hues  in  his  "  con- 
trolling "  ?  And  does  not  this  same  Sonnet  proceed  to  call  him 
"Adonis"  in  one  line,  and  then  in  the  next  lines  "a  painted 
Helen"?  Ergo,  Mr.  Willie  Hughes  as  a  female  impersonator 
used  the  hare's-foot  with  splendid  effect  {splendide  mendax),  and 
was  a  handsome  young  man  to  boot. 

Nor  is  this  all  the  evidence.  Sonnet  lxxviii.  gives  us  a 
most  convincing  piece  of  proof,  all  the  stronger  because  it  is  so 
artfully  hidden  from  the  reader's  view.  The  poet  is  here  evidently 
addressing  "WiUie  Hughes,"  and  says  in  the  third  and  fourth 
lines  : 

"  As  every  alien  pen  has  got  7ny  use^ 
And  under  thee  their  poesy  disperse." 

This  undoubtedly  refers,  though  the  ordinary  reader  would 
hardly  have  suspected  such  a  thing,  to  Willie  Hughes  leaving 
Shakespeare's  Company  for  the  rival  theatre  of  Alleyn  ( =  alien) 
and  Henslowe,  the  inducement  being,  most  likely,  better  pay. 
The  reference  is  "  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff"  as  soon  as  it  is  revealed 
to  us.  The  words  my  use  =  my  Hughes  =  my  Willie.  They 
have  to  rhyme  with  Muse  in  the  first  line,  and  Hughes  is  a  far 


APPENDIX  359 

better  rhyme  than  use,  and  explains  the  italicised  alien  ( =  Aileyn) 
and  the  whole  sad  separation  of  the  lovers  much  better  than 
my  use,  which  is  a  very  bald  expression,  and  indeed  one  hardly 
capable  of  a  rational  explanation. 

And  again  there  is  the  famous  Sonnet  lxxxvi.  concerning  the 
"Rival  Poet,"  or  Chapman  as  most  good  critics  hold  him  to  be. 
The  "ever-living"  author  of  the  Sonnets  declares  here  that  he 
was  not  afraid  of  the  Rival  Poet's  verse,  but  when  it  was  de- 
claimed by  his  beloved  "  Willie  "  at  a  rival  theatre  the  flow  of 
his  own  Muse  was  stopped.     The  words  of  the  Sonnet  are  : 

"  I  was  not  sick  of  any  fear  from  thence  : 

But  when  your  countenance  fil'd  up  his  line. 
Then  lack'd  I  matter  ;  that  enfeebled  mine." 

— Sofinet  LXXXVI.,  lines  12-14. 

As  the  ingenious  discoverer  tells  us,  "Willie  Hughes  left 
Shakespeare  for  Aileyn  and  Henslowe's  rival  company  of  actors, 
and  played  a  part  in  Chapman's  plays,  which  were  then  being 
produced  there.  Willie's  countenance  filled  up,  or  filed  up,  as 
another  reading  has  it,  the  Rival  Poet's  lines.  This  was  too 
much  for  Shakespeare,  and  went  near  to  silencing  his  Muse 
altogether.  Looked  at  in  this  light  the  Sonnet  becomes  free 
from  haze  or  obscurity." 

This  attempt,  of  which  only  200  copies  were  privately  printed, 
is,  as  all  must  allow,  a  clever  pretence  for  unravelling  a  skein  of 
mystery.  It  is  unfortunately  marred  by  one  defect,  and  that  is, 
that  Willie  Hughes  the  beloved  female  impersonator  only 
exists  in  the  "  wilde  "  imagination  of  the  discoverer.  However, 
if  we  are  enthusiasts,  that  is  a  mere  detail.  We  can  look  such 
facts  boldly  in  the  face,  take  their  measure,  brush  them  aside, 
and  go  on  our  old  paths  with  unabated  confidence.  The  true 
enthusiast  will  alway  have  the  courage  of  his  convictions  j  and 
a  true  Shakespearian  (as  the  discoverer  was)  would  be  the  last 
to  allow  that  Willie  Hughes,  or  Willie  Shakespeare,  or  any  Willie 
whatever,  could  exist  only  in  his  imagination.  Ex  nihilo  nihil 
fit.  Ergo,  if  Willie  Hughes  existed  in  my  imagination,  he  could 
not  exist  only  there,  but  must  have  existed  somewhere  else 
previously ;  he  could  not  have  been  nowhere  or  non-existent, 
for  ex  nihilo  nihil  fit  is  incontrovertible ;  he  could  not  therefore 
be  the  simple  product  of  my  brain,  and  only  to  be  found  there ; 
he  must  previously  have  been  somewhere  else,  and  why  not 
possibly   in   the   Hews  of   the   Sonnets  ?      When   enthusiasts. 


36o  APPENDIX 

whether  Baconian  or  Shakesperian,  tackle  you  in  this  manner, 
what  are  you  to  say  or  do  ?  My  advice  is,  go  out  for  a  httle 
fresh  air,  and  have  a  quiet  talk  with  the  policeman  at  the  nearest 
corner.  He,  at  least,  is  not  likely  to  be  a  metaphysician.  A 
conversational  tonic  of  this  kind  will  be  found  to  be  a  great 
relief.      Crede  Roberto  experto  ! 

Another  explanation  is  by  a  gentleman  who  claims  Sir  PhiHp 
Sidney  as  the  author  of  the  Sonnets,  and  holds  that  this  par- 
ticular Sonnet  is  addressed  to  Sidney's  great  friend,  Sir  Edward 
Dyer.  The  line  is  an  evident  punning  allusion  to  his  name,  for 
a  Dyer  can  control  all  hues.  This  ingenious  solution  comes 
from  America,  and  its  author's  name  is  J.  Stotsenburg ;  so  it 
looks  as  if  we  had  here  a  good  "  blend  "  of  German  research  and 
American  smartness. 

It  appears  also  that  there  was  a  contemporary  William 
Hughes,  a  musician,  but  there  is  nothing  to  connect  him  with 
the  Sonnets.  Also,  by  a  singular  coincidence  of  name,  a  Mrs. 
Hughes,  who  was  Prince  Rupert's  mistress,  was  the  first  woman 
to  take  female  parts  on  the  stage,  playing  Desdemona  in  1660. 

Another  explanation  is  that  Hews  stands  for  a  faithful  re- 
tainer of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who  had  great  influence  with  the 
Earl,  and  the  meaning  of  the  Hne  is  that  the  young  Adonis, 
Southampton,  the  Child  of  State,  the  world's  fresh  ornament, 
and  coming  favourite  of  the  court,  would  soon  take  the  place  of 
Hews  and  control  him  and  the  Earl  as  well.  I  believe  there  was 
a  man  of  such  a  name  in  the  Earl  of  Essex's  household,  but  that 
is  about  all  that  is  known. 

I  have  collected  these  comments  on  this  line  of  Sonnet  xx. 
more  for  amusement  than  for  any  critical  purpose.  Perhaps  all 
that  we  can  really  say  with  any  confidence  is,  that  the  "  sweet 
boy  "  (Southampton,  as  I  think)  had  a  complexion  of  the  hue  of 
"rose-cheeked  Adonis."  In  Sonnet  civ.  this  hue  is  again 
referred  to  as  "  your  sweet  hue,"  and  the  ever-living  Poet  declares 
after  "three  winters'  cold"  and  after  : 

"  Three  beauteous  springs  to  yellow  autumn  turn'd," 

this  fine  complexion,  this  special  beauty,  this  sweet  hue  "me- 
thinks  still  doth  stand." 

Elizabeth  was  wont  to  choose  her  favourites  for  their  youthful 
grace  and  high  complexion,  and  no  one  would  know  better  how 
suitable  in  this  way  young  Southampton  was,  than  those  who 
associated  with  him  intimately  at  Gray's  Inn. 


APPENDIX  361 

The  author  of  the  Sonnets  seems  to  lay  a  good  deal  of  stress 
on  this  rosy  beauty  of  his  own  sweet  '^  Rose,"  and  to  consider  it 
a  valuable  asset  for  a  young  man  to  possess.  It  strikes  me  that 
Francis  Bacon  is  far  more  likely  to  have  thought  and  said  such 
things  than  William  Shakespeare.  I  go  no  further,  and  I  leave 
Mr.  W.  H.,  Mr.  William  Hughes,  Mr.  William  Hall,  for  the  next 
writer  who  feels  inchned  to  thoroughly  tackle  the  question  of 
"  Who's  who  in  the  Sonnets,"  and  will  leave  this  title  at  his  own 
service  if  he  wants  to  choose  one.  Sometimes  an  author  would 
give  his  last  penny  for  a  really  catching  title. 

HAMLET    AND   PLATO'S   CAVE 

It  has  been  thought  that  in  the  first  scene  of  the  second  Act 
of  Hamlet  the  author  had  the  seventh  book  of  Plato's  Republic  in 
his  mind.  For  Hamlet  is  described  as  coming  to  Ophelia  while 
sewing  in  her  chamber  "as  if  he  had  been  unloosed  out  of  hell," 
and  from  the  description  of  his  appearance  it  would  seem  that  he 
had  come  forth  from  some  prison  or  dungeon.  Now,  in  Plato's 
remarkable  allegory  the  world  is  represented  as  a  subterranean 
cavern  where  men  are  kept  prisoners,  and  so  fettered  and  bound 
that  they  can  only  look  to  the  rear  of  the  cave  and  see  the 
shadows  cast  on  the  inner  wall  from  the  light  at  the  cave's 
entrance.  Objects  pass  by  the  entrance,  but  the  prisoners  see 
them  not ;  they  see  only  their  shadows  cast  on  the  wall.  That 
this  allegory  was  alluded  to  in  Hamlet  seems  further  shown  by 
a  passage  later  on  in  the  play,  where  it  is  said,  "  Then  are  our 
beggars'  bodies  and  our  monarchs  and  outstretched  heroes  the 
beggars'  shadows."  Now  Plato  had  described  {Rep.^  vii.  521) 
evil  consequences  which  would  ensue  if  the  government  of  the 
state  were  seized  by  beggars  or  persons  destitute  of  appropriate 
qualifications.  So  the  curious  expression  about  beggars  and 
heroes  quoted  above  from  Hamlet  seems  to  mean  that  the 
monarchs  and  heroes  of  the  world  are  as  the  shadows  of  such 
beggars.  Moreover,  that  most  difficult  expression,  ^''outstretched 
heroes,"  becomes  perfectly  clear  if  Plato's  allegory  is  meant,  for 
then  their  shadows  would  be  lengthened  on  the  wall.  We  should 
also  be  able  to  account  for  another  difficulty — that  of  Hamlet 
being  thirty  years  old  when  intending  to  resume  his  studies  at 
Wittenberg  (Act.  V.  sc.  6),  for  Plato  {Rep.^  vii.  539)  fixes  the  age 
of  thirty  as  the  age  when  the  serious  study  of  dialectic  or  philosophy 
should  be  commenced. 


362  APPENDIX 

Mr.  Th.  Tyler  was  the  first  to  draw  attention  to  this  abstruse 
reference  to  Plato  in  the  Academy^  June  25,  1898,  but  it  did  not, 
as  far  as  I  know,  call  forth  any  further  remarks.  It  seems  not 
unlikely,  and  certain  passages  of  the  Sonnets  rather  bear  it 
out,  e.g.  Sonnet  cxx.  : 

"  For  if  you  were  by  my  unkindnesse  shaken, 
As  I  by  yours,  y'have  pass'd  a  hell  of  time  "  ; 

also  Sonnet  lviii.  : 

"  I  am  to  wait,  though  waiting  so  be  hell "  ; 
and  Lucrece,  1286  : 

"  And  that  deep  torture  may  be  called  a  hell 
When  more  is  felt  than  one  hath  power  to  tell." 

Hamlet  no  doubt  had  "pass'd  a  hell  of  Time"  before  he  thus 
made  his  appearance  to  Ophelia, 

"  His  doublet  all  unbrac'd, 
No  hat  upon  his  head,  his  stockings  fouled, 
Ungartered,  and  down-gyved  to  his  ancle." 

"  Down-gyved  "  is  an  odd  word  to  explain,  if  we  will  not  think  of 
Plato's  fettered  prisoners. 

By  the  time  that  Hamlet  was  written  Bacon  had  come  to  see 
that  if  he  or  the  world  in  general  were  to  embrace  the  new 
philosophy,  the  new  method,  the  Novum  Organum  that  was 
developing  in  his  mind,  then  all  the  fallacies  and  false  appear- 
ances, all  the  "  Idols  of  the  Cave,"  must  be  stripped  off  or 
escaped  from,  and  the  fetters  of  the  prison-house  unshackled. 
The  ordinary  conventional  dress  of  the  schools  must  be  dis- 
arranged or  thrown  aside;  "no  hat  "  and  "doublet  all  unbrac'd," 
and  stockings  "down-gyved  to  the  ancle,"  if  we  are  to  escape 
from  the  "confines,  wards,  and  dungeons"  of  our  "goodly 
prison "  in  this  world  below.  In  Scene  ii.  of  the  same  Act,  a 
little  farther  on,  Hamlet  gives  his  philosophy  of  the  world's 
prison-house  in  his  finest  pessimistic  vein;  but  enough  has  been 
adduced  to  show  that  we  have  Bacon's  language  all  through,  and 
not  that  of  Shaksper  the  Player. 

SOME   ECCENTRIC   CRITICS   OF   THE   SONNETS 

The  interpretations  given  to  the  Sonnets  have  been  almost 
endless,  and  no  two  commentators  have  ever  thoroughly  agreed 
with  each  other. 

For  eccentricity  I  think  a  gentleman  named  Heraud  carries  off 
the  palm.  The  poet's  "  Two  Loves  "  were  the  Roman  Catholic  and 


k 


APPENDIX  363 

Reformed  Churches,  and  there  is  not  a  single  Sonnet  addressed 
to  any  individual  at  all.  In  the  later  Sonnets  we  are  to  think  of 
the  author  as  having  his  Bible  open  before  him,  and  reading  the 
Canticles.  There  he  finds  that  lady  "  black  but  comely,"  who  is 
the  spouse  of  his  celestial  friend  and  himself  too.  M.  Fernand 
Henry,  who  has  lately  edited  the  Sonnets  in  a  French  translation, 
is  reminded  by  this  eccentric  expositor  of  Father  Hardouin  the 
learned  Jesuit,  who  held  the  opinion  that  the  Odes  of  Horace 
were  written  by  the  monks  of  the  Middle  Ages  (13th  century), 
and  that  Lalage  the  poet's  mistress  was  but  a  symbol  of  the 
Christian  religion. 

This  same  M.  Fernand  Henry  is  much  disgusted  with  those 
English  critics  who  will  not  hear  a  word  against  the  morality  of 
their  great  literary  idol — who  will  have  it  that  their  national  poet 
was  a  faithful  husband  and  a  devoted  admirer  of  the  sex  in  the 
highest  and  purest  bonds  of  affection,  and  a  man  who  hved 
all  through  his  London  life  in  a  singularly  gentle  and  pure  way, 
and  joined  his  dear  wife  in  his  country  home  to  end  his  days 
with  her  and  his  family  in  peace — a  respectable  and  ideal 
Englishman. 

No,  our  French  critic  will  not  stand  this.  "  II  n'est  que  la 
pruderie  et  le  cant  anglais  capables  de  s'offusquer  h  si  bon 
marche."  No,  Shakespeare  had  his  moral  weaknesses,  and  we 
must  admit  them ;  but  they  are  not  to  blast  his  character  or  his 
reputation.  He  holds  that  his  very  avowal  of  them,  and  the 
way  he  makes  it  in  the  Sonnets,  carries  forgiveness  with  it,  and 
induces  pity  for  that  wonderful  intellect,  that  it  should  be  fated 
to  ride  so  "  sorry  a  beast "  as  was  at  times  no  doubt  that  mortal 
body  that  carried  him.  Our  complaisant  Frenchman  finishes 
thus :  "On  ne  trouve  pas  dans  Saint  Augustin  un  aveu  plus 
humilie,  et  combien  le  contraste  est  plus  frappant  si  Ton  rap- 
proche  les  sonnets  des  Confessions  ou  Jean- Jacques  r^vele,  avec 
une  sorte  d'ostentation,  les  secrets  les  plus  caches  de  sa  vie, 
poussant  le  cynisme  jusqu'a  inventer  parfois  des  choses  qui  ne 
sont  rien  moins  que  certaines  ! " 

Another  Frenchman,  M.  Louis  Direy,  who  prints  his  con- 
tribution at  Poverty  Bay,  New  Zealand  (1890),  holds  the  view 
that  the  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  are  the  "lyrical  drama  of  his 
inner  Hfe."  In  brief,  "The  Orpheus  is  alone  on  the  stage. 
He  there  evokes  two  personages — his  Friend  and  his  Mistress. 
Who  are  they  ?  His  Friend  is  his  heavenly  spirit,  his  immortal ; 
his  Mistress  is  his  earthly  passion,  his  perishable.      There  is 


364  APPENDIX 

besides  'the  Beast  that  bears  him' — his  body.      This  trio  is 
himself." 

This  Frenchman  from  the  Antipodes  is  quite  an  enthusiast 
in  his  way,  and  has  somewhat  the  temper  of  a  prophet  of  Israel. 
He  ends  with  a 

"  QUOUSQUE    TANDEM  !  " 

"  For  now  three  centuries  of  fiery  ordeal  our  twin  stars,  William 
and  Anne,"^  been  jointly  defamed,  nay  divorced,  as  it  were,  before 
the  world  by  the  infamous  verdict  of  worser  England,  even  such  as 
Shakespeare's  biographers  and  the  Shakespearian  Judases,  who  in 
recent  times  having  failed  to  filch  the  thorn-and-laurel  crown  from 
Shakespeare's  seraphic  head,  for  to  clap  it  on  Bacon's  barren  brow, 
are  nowadays  viciously,  insidiously  attempting  in  Christian  England, 
in  the  native  country  of  gentle  William,  the  Poet  of  poets,  to  erect 
altars  to  Baal,  under  the  lurid  meteor  of  Goth  Goethe  and  his  Mephis- 
topheles. 

"It  is  for  you,  fairer,  better,  truer  England  to  quash  now  that 
odious  verdict,  and  to  piously  celebrate  the  trieval  jewel-wedding  of 
William  and  Anne,  in  Shakespeare's  spiritual  Church  of  the  Future, 
singing  in  unison  the  chaste  Canticle  of  Canticles,  the  song  of  the 
Swan  of  Avon,  as  once  sung  by  '  the  bird  of  loudest  lay.'  Thus  will 
the  eye  of  the  living  God  smile  on  the  inauguration  of  the  promised 
Jerusalem." 

We  are  generally  taught  that  French  writers  are  distinguished 
for  their  lucidity.  Perhaps  the  climate  of  the  Antipodes  has 
not  been  favourable  to  this  quality,  or  else  it  was  the  English 
language  that  did  not  give  him  a  fair  chance. 

Among  the  curiosities  of  the  Sonnets  the  following  is  too  good 
to  be  left  out.  A  Mr,  Samuel  Smith  Travers,  who  hails  from 
Tasmania,  published  in  1881  at  Hobart  Town  a  small  work, 
entitled  Shakespeare^ s  Sonnets.  To  whom  were  they  addressed  1 
On  the  leaf  before  the  preface  we  have  : 

TO  .  J.O.    HALLIWELL-PHILLIPS 

THESE  .  INSVING  •  LINES 

ARE  .  DEDICATED 

BY 

THE-  WELL-WISHING 

ADVENTVRER • IN 

SETTING 

FORTH.  — S.  S.  T. 

*  Why  is  it  that  the  New  World  will  persist  in  bringing  in  Mistress  Anne 
Hathaway  ?    At  home  we  seldom,  if  ever,  connect  her  with  the  Sonnets. 


APPENDIX  365 

Page  13  gives  his  answer.  "They  were  addressed  to  his 
[Shakespeare's]  son.  Not  a  son  by  Anne  Hathaway,  but  to  an 
illegitimate  son  by  some  other  woman — as  evidence  would  go  to 
show,  by  some  woman  of  high  rank.  .  .  .  Can  we  imagine  that  any 
mere  woman  could  resist  him  ? "  The  proof  takes  twenty-four 
pages  altogether, 

DID  SHAKESPEARE  WRITE  BACON'S  WORKS? 

The  next  Bacon-Shakespeare  curio  that  seems  to  me  worthy 
of  preservation  here,  is  an  elaborate  article  by  an  American 
named  J.  Freeman  Clarke,  who  shows  to  his  own  satisfaction 
that  it  was  far  more  likely  that  Shakespeare  wrote  all  the  great 
philosophical  works  of  Bacon  than  that  Bacon,  being  the  man 
he  was,  should  have  been  able  to  write  the  Plays  and  Poems 
of  Shakespeare.  This  essay  appears  in  Nineteenth  Century 
Questions  (Cambridge,  Mass.,  1898),  and  I  have  reduced  it  in 
compass  considerately,  but  have  not  omitted,  I  believe,  any 
important  point. 

I  may  say,  first  of  all,  that  I  believe  each  man  wrote  his  own 
works  as  we  have  had  them  from  the  beginning.  I  regard  the 
monistic  view  that  one  man  wrote  both  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  as 
in  the  last  degree  improbable,  not  merely  a  marvel,  but  a  miracle. 
But  if  we  are  compelled  to  accept  the  view  which  ascribes  a  common 
source  to  the  Shakespeare  Drama  and  the  Baconian  Philosophy,  I 
think  there  are  good  reasons  for  preferring  Shakespeare  to  Bacon  as 
the  author  of  both. 

It  will  not  be  sufficient  to  say  that  Shakespeare  could  not  have 
acquired  the  necessary  knowledge,  for  we  cannot  understand  now 
the  rapidity  with  which  all  sorts  of  knowledge  were  imbibed  in  the 
period  of  the  Renaissance.  It  was  the  fashion  of  that  day  to  study 
all  languages,  all  subjects,  all  authors.  Thus  speaks  Robert  Burton, 
who  was  forty  years  old  when  Shakespeare  died  :  "  What  a  world 
of  books  offers  itself,  in  all  subjects,  arts,  and  sciences  to  the  sweet 
content  and  capacity  of  the  reader  ! "  A  mind  like  that  of  Shake- 
speare could  not  have  failed  to  share  this  universal  desire  for  know- 
ledge. After  leaving  the  grammar-school  at  Stratford,  he  had  nine 
years  for  such  studies  before  he  went  to  London,  and  when  he  began 
to  write  plays,  or  dress  up  old  ones,  he  had  new  motives  for  study, 
and  would  have  to  keep  up  his  classics  for  his  own  interest. 

Look  at  Ben  Jonson's  case  ;  that  furnishes  the  best  reply  to  those 
who  think  that  Shakespeare  could  not  have  gained  much  knowledge 
of  science  or  literature,  because  he  did  not  go  to  Oxford  or  Cambridge. 
What  opportunities  had  Ben?    A  bricklayer  by  trade,  called  back 


366  APPENDIX 

immediately  from  his  studies  to  use  the  trowel ;  then  running  away 
and  enlisting  as  a  common  soldier  ;  fighting  in  the  Low  Countries  ; 
coming  home  at  nineteen,  and  going  on  the  stage  ;  sent  to  prison  for 
fighting  a  duel — what  opportunities  for  study  had  he  ?  He  was  of 
strong  animal  nature,  combative,  in  perpetual  quarrels,  fond  of  drink, 
in  pecuniary  troubles,  married  at  twenty,  with  a  wife  and  children 
to  support.  Yet  Jonson  was  celebrated  for  his  learning.  He  was 
master  of  Greek  and  Latin  Hterature.  If  then  Ben  Jonson,  thus 
handicapped,  could  manage  to  acquire  this  vast  knowledge,  is  there 
any  reason  why  Shakespeare,  with  much  more  leisure,  might  not 
have  done  the  like  ? 

But  my  position  is  that  if  either  of  these  writers  wrote  the  works 
attributed  to  the  other,  it  is  much  more  likely  that  Shakespeare  the 
Poet  wrote  the  works  of  Bacon  the  Philosopher  than  that  Bacon  the 
Philosopher  wrote  the  poetical  works  of  Shakespeare.  For  where 
can  you  find  any  good  examples  of  philosophers  becoming  supreme 
poets?  But,  on  the  other  hand,  authors  whose  primary  quality  is 
poetic  genius  have  often  been  eminent  as  philosophers.  Milton, 
Petrarch,  Goethe,  Voltaire,  Coleridge,  were  primarily  and  eminently 
poets  ;  but  they  turned  out  very  excellent  metaphysicians,  men  of 
science  and  philosophers  as  well. 

But  what  instance  have  we  of  any  man  like  Bacon,  chiefly  eminent 
as  lawyer,  statesman,  and  philosopher,  who  was  also  distinguished  as 
a  supreme  poet  ?  What  great  lawyer  ever  became  eminent  as  a 
dramatic  or  lyric  author?  Cicero  tried  it,  but  his  verses  are  doggerel. 
If  Bacon  wrote  Shakespeare,  he  is  the  one  exception  to  an  otherwise 
universal  rule. 

Again,  this  assumption  that  Shakespeare  wrote  Bacon  will  explain 
at  once  the  insoluble  problem  of  the  contradiction  between  Bacon's 
character  and  conduct  and  his  works.  In  Bacon's  writings  he  is 
calm,  dignified,  noble.  In  his  life  he  was  an  office-seeker  through 
long  years,  seeking  place  by  cringing  subservience  to  men  in  power. 
To  gain  and  keep  office  he  would  desert  his  friends,  attack  his 
benefactors,  and  make  abject  apologies  for  any  manly  word  he  might 
have  incautiously  uttered.  ...  How  was  it  possible  for  a  man  to 
spend  half  of  his  life  in  the  meanest  of  pursuits,  and  the  other  half 
in  the  noblest?  We  cannot  marry  his  low  conduct  to  his  high 
philosophy.  But  we  are  really  not  required  to  do  so,  for  the  difficulty 
is  quite  removed  if  we  suppose  that  Bacon,  the  pushing  courtier  and 
lawyer,  with  his  other  ambitions,  had  also  the  desire  to  be  a  philo- 
sopher, or  at  least  the  fame  of  it,  and  so  induced  Shakespeare,  then 
in  the  prime  of  his  powers,  to  help  him  to  write  the  prose  essays  and 
treatises  which  are  his  chief  works,  and  to  allow  Bacon's  name  to 
appear  on  the  title-pages.  In  fact.  Bacon,  writing  to  Tobie  Matthew, 
his  one  great  friend  to  whom  he  was  least  reserved,  in  1623,  says  that 
he  was  then  making  his  writings  more  perfect  "by  the  help  of  some 
good  pens  which  forsake  me  not."      If  Bacon  used  other  people's 


APPENDIX  367 

pens  then,  why  not  eadier  in  life,  when  Shakespeare  was  alive? 
We  also  can  explain  on  this  assumption  that  very  curious  fact  that 
Shakespeare  seemed  to  leave  no  books  or  MSS.,  or  even  to  mention 
them  in  his  Will.  This  is  quite  accounted  for — he  had  let  Bacon 
have  them  all  before  he  died,  and  Bacon  went  on  working  at  this 
material  till  he  finished  his  (Shakespearian)  Novum  Organum^  and 
the  rest.  No  doubt  Ben  Jonson  gave  Bacon  considerable  help  too — 
he  would  be  one  of  his  "best  pens"  ;  and  since  in  1613  Shakespeare 
bought  a  house  in  Blackfriars,  where  Ben  Jonson  also  lived,  these 
two  great  men  would  be  very  conveniently  situated  for  co-operating 
with  Bacon  in  writing  his  Novum  Organum.  There  can  be  very 
little  doubt  that  from  Bacon's  character  and  court-attendance  and 
busy  official  life,  he  had  neither  time,  nor  inclination,  nor  ability  for 
such  laborious  moral  and  philosophical  work — Shakespeare  and  Ben 
Jonson  did  it  for  him,  and  he  took  the  fame  and  glory. 

Another  writer  (W.  D.  G.)  in  the  Aberdeen  Alma  Mater ^  Jan. 
12,  1898,  mentions  a  friend  who  was  so  ultra-Shakespearian  that 
he  claimed  Bacon's  Essays  to  be  the  work  of  the  poet  Shake- 
speare. They  bore  the  stamp  of  the  Bard  of  Avon  on  their  very 
first  line,  it  being  a  fine  example  of  an  English  hexameter ;  only 
some  interpolator  had  inserted  a  bloated  epithet,  making  the  line 
a  Heptameter : 

"  What  is  truth  said  [^jestijtg]  Pilate,  and  would  not  wait  for  an 
answer.^"* 

The  Shakespeare  Anniversary,   1902 

I  confess  I  am  not  a  very  great  reader  of  newspapers,  but 
as  St.  George's  Day  of  this  year  (April  23,  1902)  was  also  the 
Shakespeare  anniversary  day,  and  beginning  now  to  be  honoured 
much  more  than  in  my  College  days,  when  we  hardly  noticed  it, 
my  attention  was  drawn  to  several  matters  akin  to  my  book. 

(i)  The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare  were  quoted  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  This,  I  believe,  is  an  almost  unique  instance. 
Stranger  still,  it  was  in  connection  with  the  Beer  Bill  introduced 
to  help  the  use  of  barley  and  prevent  sugar  and  chemical 
products  being  too  freely  used  in  the  brewing.  Mr.  Fletcher 
Moulton,  the  well-known  K.C.  and  expert  in  patents  and  com- 
mercial matters,  delivered  an  eloquent  and  well-argued  speech 
against  prohibitive  legislation  in  this  matter.  He  asked  the 
House  to  consider  the  injury  that  would  be  effected  by  Parlia- 
ment putting  a  stop  to  the  development  of  industry.  The 
proposal  of  the  Bill  reminded  him  of  Shakespeare's  lines,  "  Art 
made  dumb  by  authority  and  folly  controlling  skill  ?  "     (Cheers.) 


368  APPENDIX 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  his  quotation  was  a  Httle  more  accurate 
than  the  above,  otherwise  he  certainly  did  not  deserve  the 
cheers.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  Httle  bit  too  much  for  the 
reporters  to  grapple  with,  for  the  Times^  which  gives  much  the 
longest  report,  and  the  Daily  Chronicle  and  many  other  papers, 
do  not  mention  the  quotation  at  all — ray  authorities  being  only 
the  Daily  Graphic  and  the  Daily  News^  which  both  agree 
verbally,  and  consequently,  I  suppose,  obtained  the  quotation 
from  the  same  reporter.  I  need  hardly  tell  lovers  of  the  Sonnets 
that  the  orator  was  referring  to  the  pessimistic  Sonnet  lxvi.  and 
the  lines  : 

"  And  art  made  tongue-tied  by  authority, 
And  folly  (doctor-like)  controlling  skill." 

But  whether  Mr.  Fletcher  Moulton  uttered  them  correctly 
with  the  loving  intonation  of  an  enthusiast,  or  mangled  them  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  it  is  rather  a  pleasing  novelty  to  have 
the  Sonnets  in  Parhament  at  all,  and  deserves  a  record. 

(2)  On  the  same  day  the  British  Weekly  in  its  long  primer 
leading  critique  on  Dr.  Cheyne  and  his  Encyclopcedia  Biblica^  or 
"The  Bible  in  Tatters,"  as  the  paper  preferred  to  call  it,  tried 
to  make  out  that  the  learned  D.D.  was  the  victim  of  a  craze,  and 
that  his  arguments  were  no  better  than  those  of  the  Baconians. 
"We  have,"  it  says,  a  precise  parallel  to  the  Bacon-Shakespeare 
craze.  Of  course  no  real  man  of  letters  who  knows  Shakespeare 
would  ever  give  the  theory  a  thought.  There  is  nothing  in  the 
evidence  that  has  even  the  smallest  force,  and  yet,  speaking 
from  a  fair  acquaintance  wiih  the  books,  we  confidently  affirm 
that  the  argument  is  far  more  plausible  than  many  arguments 
used  by  Biblical  critics ;  in  fact,  if  the  advocates  of  Bacon  had 
been  dealing  with  some  book  in  the  Bible  they  would  have  been 
enthusiastically  supported  by  all  the  Professors  of  Leyden,  by 
Dr.  Cheyne,  and  by  a  good  many  more." 

(3)  In  an  evening  paper  (same  day)  the  following  met  my 
eyes :  "  Yesterday  was  Shakespeare's  day,  the  birth  day  and 
death  day,  according  to  repute,  of  the  late  Mr.  William  Shake- 
speare, a  gentleman  who  is  stated  to  have  been  the  author  of  a 
large  number  of  elegant  quotations.  I  did  not,  however,  notice 
any  one  immersed  in  the  notable  tome  attributed  to  him,  and 
the  city  continued  at  its  usual  gallup.  For  my  part,  I  rose 
betimes,  and  thinking  not  of  Shakespeare,  contented  myself 
with  bacon." 


APPENDIX  369 

The  subject  thus  seems  to  go 

"  From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe  "  ; 

and  ends  in  a  business-like  manner  with  the  following  newspaper 
announcements  of  '*  Publications  received"  : 

The  Mystery  of  William  Shakespeare :  a  Smnmary  of  Evidence. 
By  his  Honour  Judge  Webb.     Longmans,  los.  6d.  net. 

The  Early  Life  of  Lord  Bacon.  Newly  studied  by  Parker 
Woodward.     Gay  &  Bird,  2s.  6d.  net. 

Altogether  the  Shakespeare  Anniversary  Day  of  1902  was 
the  most  notable  one  that  I  remember. 

The  Author's  own  Curio 

His  Solution  of  the  Famous  Expression — 

Swan  of  Avon 

I  have  at  end  of  Chapter  VI.  referred  ironically  to  a 
Baconian  solution  of  the  well-known  words  Swan  of  Avon^  for, 
seriously  speaking,  I  cannot  accept  the  Cheltenham  solution.  But 
if  we  may  allow  our  imagination  sometimes  to  lift  us  from  terra 
firma  into  the  realms  of  hypothesis,  I  would  rather  search  for 
the  solution  among  the  Swans  which  Bacon  mentions  in  his 
De  AugffientiSj  lib.  2,  cap.  vii.,  and  which  he  had  taken  from 
Ariosto's  Orlando  Furioso,  Bk.  xxxv.  14.  I  allow  myself  in  imagi- 
nation to  overhear  Ben  Jonson  and  Francis  Bacon  discussing 
together  the  rough  draft  of  the  famous  vestibule  of  the  1623 
folio.  "  What  title  shall  I  give  him  ?  "  says  the  obliging  Jonson. 
"Oh,"  says  the  great  man  of  mystery,  "call  him  the  Swan  of 
Avon,  for  he  flew  away  from  London  to  his  native  Avon  with 
my  medal  in  his  mouth,  and  he  is  the  swan  who  is  to  take  it 
to  the  '  temple  consecrated  to  immortality.'  But  the  medal  has 
my  name  and  cipher  impressed  on  it  all  the  time,  if  people  would 
only  look  in  the  right  place." 

What  Bacon  says  about  the  swans  is  as  follows :  "  He 
[Ariosto]  feigns  that  at  the  end  of  the  thread  of  every  man's 
life,  there  hangs  a  little  medal  or  collar  {monile)  on  which  his 
name  is  stamped;  and  that  Time  waits  upon  the  shears  of 
Atropos,  and  as  soon  as  the  thread  is  cut,  snatches  the  medals, 
carries  them  off,  and  presently  throws  them  into  the  river  Lethe ; 

2  A 


370  APPENDIX 

and  about  the  river  there  are  many  birds  flying  up  and  down, 
who  catch  the  medals,  and  after  carrying  them  round  and  round 
in  their  beak  a  little  while,  let  them  fall  into  the  river;  only 
there  are  some  swans  which  if  they  get  a  medal  with  a  name, 
immediately  carry  it  off  to  a  temple  consecrated  to  immortality."  * 

*  Spedding,  Bacon^s  Works^  iv.  307. 


INDEX 


I 


INDEX 


Abbott,  Dr.,  and  the  squabble  between 
Bacon  and  Coke,  41 ;  and  Lady  Anne 
Bacon's  complaints  against  Perez  and 
Francis  Bacon's  male  servants,  51 ; 
his  Bacon  and  Essex,  ib.  ;  his  solution 
of  Bacon's  character,  63,  258 ;  and 
Bacon's  humour,  127  ;  and  Bacon's 
style,  332 

Actresses,  absence  of,  from  the  Eliza- 
bethan stage,  61 

Adagia,  Erasmus's,  account  in,  of  the 
"  Gardens  of  Adonis,"  69 

Adonis,  the  counterfeit  of  Southampton 
in  the  Sonnets,  57;  the  "gardens" 
of,  69  ;  of  the  Sonnets,  137 

Advancement  of  Learning,  Bacon's,  and 
Sonnet  cxxv. ,  233 ;  his  remarks  on 
poetry  in,  268 ;  difference  between 
Bacon's  views  expressed  in  the  edition 
of  1605  and  those  in  the  revised  one 
of  1623,  269. 

Advice  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  Bacon's,  and 
the  Pallas  -  Shake  -  speare  question , 
291 

Alasco,  Alberto,  honour  paid  to,  at 
Oxford,  219 

AUeyn,  the  actor- manager,  allusions 
to,  in  the  Sonnets,  220  ;  his  silence  as 
to  Shakespeare,  235  ;  and  the  author- 
ship of  Richard  II. ,  324 

Airs  Well  That  E?ids  Well,  date  of  the 
publication  of,  346 

Alma  Mater,  the  Aberdeen,  a  writer  in, 
and  the  authorship  of  Bacon's  Essays, 
367 

A  Lover's  Complaint,  suggestive  pas- 
sages in,  of  Bacon's  authorship,  58 

Andrewes,  Bishop,  and  Bacon's  author- 
ship, 271 ;  Bacon's  view  on  a  man's 
writings  expressed  to  him,  304 

Angelo,  Michael,  his  relation  to  Tom- 
maso  de'  Cavalieri  a  parallel  to  the 
attitude  of  the  author  of  the  Sonnets 
towards  William  Herbert,  257 

Anthologia  Polyglotta,  Dr.  Wellesley's, 
71 

Antonio  and  Mellida,  Marston's,  30 

"  Apologetical  Dialogue,"  the,  prohibi- 
tion of,  88  ;  vicious  allusions  in,  89 

Apology  Concerning  the  late  Earl  of 
Essex,  Bacon's  141,  i88 ;  and  his 
travels  and  studies,  208 


Apophthegms,  Bacon's,  proof  of  his 
philosophic  spirit  in,  105 

Arcadia,  Sidney's,  and  the  Sonnets, 
143,  201 

Archer,  William,  and  the  "  Dark  Lady," 
146 

Arena,  the,  opinions  of  distinguished 
men  in,  on  Shakespeare-Bacon  prob- 
lem, 118 

"Aretine,"  the  appellation,  applied  to 
Bacon,  24  ;  applied  to  Nash,  25 

Aristotle,  the  policy  of,  imitated  by 
Bacon,  322 

Art  of  Poesie,  Puttenham's,  30 

Ashurst,  R.  L.,  his  remarks  on  W.  H. 
Edwards's  Shaksper  not  Shakespeare^ 
282 

AstropJiel  and  Stella^  Sidney's,  traces  of 
similiarity  between,  and  some  of  the 
Sonnets,  202 

As  You  Like  It,  and  Vincento  Saviolo's 
Book,  186  ;  the  disguise  of  Rosalind 
in,  263  ;  alleged  self- revelation  of  the 
author  in  the  character  of  Jacque?, 
327 ;  date  of  the  publication  of,  346 

Aubrey,  John,  the  value  of  his  literary 
records,  36 

Authors  and  Printers  in  Elizabethan 
days,  343 

A  visa,  Willobie's,  called  in,  15  ;  date  of 
its  entry  at  Stationers'  Hall,  290  ;  in- 
terest taken  in  Lucrece  by  the  author, 
291 

Bacon,  Anthony,  his  intimacy  with  An- 
tonio Perez,  44 ;  letters  to,  from  Lady 
Anne,  complaining  of  behaviour  of 
Francis  Bacon's  male  servants,  49 

Bacon,  Francis,  monogram  of,  in  dedi- 
cation to  Rape  of  Lucrece,  3,4;  his 
signature  to  his  letters  written  to  Lord 
and  Lady  Burghley,  5 ;  his  author- 
ship of  the  Shakespeare  Poems  known 
to  Marston  and  Hall,  11,  12  et  seq.  ; 
known  to  contemporaries  to  be  the 
author  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  14  ;  the 
"Labeo"  of  Marston  and  Hall,  17, 
20  ;  and  the  cynic  of  Hall's  Satires, 
18  ;  his  motto,  21 ;  and  the  appellation 
"Aretine,"  24;  his  early  licence  of 
love,  25  ;  scandals  about,  ib.  ;  the  au- 
thor of  the  Shakespearian  Poems  and 


374 


INDEX 


Bacon,  Francis — continued 
Sonnets,  29  ;  allusions  to,  in  Marston's 
Satires,  29-31 ;  his  connection  with 
the  "scandal"  of  the  Sonnets,  35; 
John  Aubrey  and  his  moral  character, 
36 ;  and  the  treatment  of  official  re- 
cords, 38 ;  his  connection  with  masques 
at  Gray's  Inn,  and  devices  for  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  38,  276  ;  a  great  literary  fab- 
ricator, 39  ;  peculiarities  of  his  literary 
life,  38,  39;  his  squabble  with  At- 
torney-General Coke,  40-42 ;  protec- 
tion of,  by  Cecil,  41 ;  the  youth  of, 
43  ;  his  associates,  ib. ,  78,  88 ;  letter 
to,  from  a  Mr.  Standen,  45  ;  letters 
written  by  him  for  others,  47  ;  his  want 
of  authority  over  his  male  servants, 
48 ;  reason  why  he  concealed  his  au- 
thorship of  Venus  and  Adonis,  49  ; 
pecuniary  difficulties  of,  49 ;  his  in- 
timacy with  Mary  Fitton,  55 ;  evil 
reports  of,  62 ;  Pope's  false  judgment 
on,  63  ;  Dr.  Abbott's  solution  of  his 
character,  ib.  ;  the  last  five  years  of 
his  life,  64 ;  and  the  ' '  gardens  of 
Adonis,"  70;  his  power  of  paraphras- 
ing other  men's  phraseology,  73 ;  his 
character  as  portrayed  by  Sir  Toby 
Matthews,  75 ;  his  qualifications  for 
the  authorship  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays  and  Poems,  76 ;  Ben  Jonson's 
early  attitude  towards,  81 ;  portrayed 
in  Ben  Jonson's  Silent  Woman,  84 ; 
in  the  Poetaster,  85  ;  his  dislike  of  his 
profession,  88 ;  his  connection  with 
Richard  II.,  89,  155,  166,  180,  324; 
his  predicament  at  Essex's  trial,  90 ; 
under  a  cloud,  ib.  ;  his  friendship  with 
Ben  Jonson,  93;  one  of  his  favourite 
literary  devices,  112  ;  as  we  know  him, 
120;  date  of  his  greater  works,  ib.  ; 
on  love,  121 ;  his  early  levity  and  his 
later  life,  123  ;  and  the  love  scenes  in 
the  Shakespeare  Plays,  ib.  ;  a  natural 
humorist,  127 ;  his  intimacy  with 
Southampton,  Pembroke,  and  Essex, 
129  ;  and  the  "  Procreation  Sonnets," 
136 ;  proof  that  he  wrote  Sonnets,  141 ; 
his  alienation  from  Southampton,  142 ; 
a  remarkable  letter  from,  to  South- 
ampton, ib.  ;  in  his  early  Gray's  Inn 
days,  145  ;  probability  of  his  author- 
ship of  Venus  and  Adonis,  145  ;  his 
opportunities  of  meeting  Herbert  and 
Mary  Fitton,  148  ;  his  intimacy  with 
Mary  Fitton,  149 ;  depicted  in  Th^ 
Silent  Woman,  152 ;  allusions  to,  by 
Ben  Jonson,  155  ;  his  views  as  to  the 
value  of  our  plantations  in  America, 
160 ;  a  true  patriot,  ib ;  depicted  in 
Jonson's  Bartholomew  Fair,  161 ;  his 
correspondence  with  Essex  and  South- 
ampton, 169  ;  the  probable  author  of 
Pembroke's  letter  from  prison  to  Cecil, 
171  ;  and  of  Essex's  letters,  173  ;  poem 


Bacon,  Francis — continued 
composed  by  him  when  Essex  was  in 
danger  of  losing  the  Queen's  favour, 
176 ;  his  letter  to  Lord  Essex,  177  ; 
his  breach  with  Southampton,  178  ; 
his  letter  to  Southampton  just  before 
his  release  from  prison,  ib.  ;  his  per- 
sonal relations  with  Southampton, 
179 ;  and  the  trial  of  Essex,  ib.  ; 
reason  why  he  never  mentions  Shake- 
speare or  Jonson,  ib.  ;  his  reason  for 
avoiding  open  correspondence  with 
Southampton,  180;  on  his  own  literary 
powers,  181 ;  similarity  between  his 
letter  to  Lord  Burghley  and  Sonnet  ii. , 
181;  and  the  "Sonnet  to  Florio," 
182  ;  his  connection  with  Florio,  185  ; 
and  As  You  Like  It,  i86  ;  poems  attri- 
butable to,  187;  and  the  "  Farnaby  " 
poem,  188 ;  his  identities  of  thought 
with  Shakespeare,  189 ;  his  five  con- 
cealed poems,  ib.  ;  his  opportunities 
for  visiting  Italy,  200 ;  and  Sidney's 
Arcadia,  201  ;  and  Astrophel  and 
Stella,  202 ;  at  Twickenham  Lodge, 
204  ;  the  "  northern  journey  "  of,  207, 
217;  dedication  of  his  "  Travels  and 
Studies,"  208  ;  his  period  of  depres- 
sion, 210;  his  personal  relationship 
with  Southampton,  210;  absence  of  cor- 
respondence between  him  and  South- 
ampton, 211 ;  nature  of  his  relationship 
with  Southampton,  213 ;  his  tardy 
success  in  mounting  the  ladder  of  am- 
bition, 213  ;  and  the  threatening  of  his 
life,  218 ;  and  Bruno's  philosophy, 
ib.  ;  possible  connection  between  him 
and  Bruno,  219  ;  and  Bruno's  visit  to 
Oxford,  219,  229  ;  and  the  "  eclipse" 
of  the  Queen,  225  ;  odium  incurred  by 
him  through  taking  part  in  the  prose- 
cution of  Essex,  227  ;  and  Italian  free- 
thinkers, 229 ;  his  intimacy  with  Sir 
Fulke  Greville,  230;  his  friendship 
with  Sir  Thomas  Heneage,  234  ;  pos- 
sible reasons  why  he  never  mentions 
Shakespeare,  ib.  ;  his  theory  of  the 
nature  of  fire,  243;  probably  the  writer 
of  Sonnets  for  Southampton  and  Her- 
bert to  send  to  their  lady-loves,  249 ; 
his  confirmed  habit  of  writing  letters 
for  other  people,  249 ;  Ben  Jonson's 
earlier  and  later  view  about  him,  250 ; 
parallelisms  between  his  acknowledged 
works  and  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare, 
251  ;  the  question  whether  he  had  a 
mistress,  253  ;  his  misogynism,  255 ; 
the  mystery  of  his  real  character,  258  ; 
Mr.  Abbott's  view  of  his  life,  ib. ;  his 
prayers  found  after  his  death,  259  ; 
maligned  by  Pope,  ib.  ;  religious  calm 
of  his  later  life,  260 ;  his  "Confession 
of  Faith,"  ib.  ;  his  wild  oats,  261  ; 
the  chosen  companions  of  the  early 
middle  period  of  his  life,  262 ;  effect 


INDEX 


375 


Bacon,  f  rancis — continued 

on  his  personal  character  of  the  ill 
odour  in  which  he  found  himself  before 
and  after  the  trial  of  Essex,  ib.  ;  a 
clue  to  the  date  when  the  adverse 
rumours  against  him  were  strongest, 
ib. ;  his  connection  with  the  authorship 
of  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  264 ; 
his  reason  for  concealing  his  author- 
ship of  Shakespeare,  265  ;  his  mistress, 
266 ;  as  a  poet,  267  ;  true  estimate 
of,  ib.  ;  his  intimacy  with  Sir  Tobie 
Matthew,  ib,  ;  the  period  of  his  life 
about  which  so  little  is  known,  268, 
293  ;  his  concealment  of  his  real  atti- 
tude to  poetry  and  the  drama,  268 ; 
his  views  in  later  life  with  regard  to 
poetry,  269 ;  the  friends  to  whom  he 
lifted  off  the  mask,  271 ;  his  early 
genius,  ib.  ;  the  period  when  he  was 
laying  the  foundation  of  the  Plays 
and  Poems,  272  ;  his  admiration  of 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  272  ;  evidence  of  his 
love  of  poetry,  273  ;  his  love  for  litera- 
ture anterior  to  his  passion  for  science, 
274 ;  seventeenth-century  testimonies  to 
the  intimate  relation  between  him  and 
poetry,  ib. ;  his  connection  with  Pallas, 
281  et  seq. ;  reason  why  he  called 
himself  Shakespeare,  285  ;  reason  why 
he  used  the  name  of  Shakespeare,  290  ; 
evidence  of  his  connection  with  Shak- 
sper,  291 ;  his  unparalleled  activity, 
293  ;  his  commonplace  books,  ib.  ;  his 
belief  in  himself,  ib.  ;  his  estimation 
of  his  later  philosophical  works,  295  ; 
his  magnificence  on  the  day  of  his 
wedding,  296 ;  his  far-reaching  intel- 
lectual aspirations,  297 ;  his  facilities 
for  producing  the  Shakespeare  plays, 
&c.,  298  ;  rapidity  of  his  work,  299  ; 
his  peculiar  facility  for  improving  other 
people's  language,  ib.  ;  the  party  in 
the  Church  of  England  to  which  he 
belonged,  299  ;  his  first  pleading  in 
the  King's  Bench,  300 ;  his  enormous 
vocabulary,  ib.  ;  unique  words  used 
by  him,  301 ;  the  classification  of  his 
philosophical  works,  302  ;  his  self- 
effacement  in  literary  matters,  303 ; 
the  view  he  held  on  a  man's  writings, 
304  ;  his  private  friends  when  at  Gray's 
Inn,  308  ;  under  his  Ovidian  domino, 
310;  his  habit  of  constant  revision, 
315,  345  ;  reason  why  he  concealed  his 
identity,  320  et  seq.  ;  his  lofty  philan- 
thropy, 327 ;  parallel  between  his 
literary  style  and  that  of  Milton,  331 ; 
his  view  upon  the  permanency  of  the 
English  language,  333  ;  reason  of  his 
close  alliance  with  Essex,  334 ;  his 
genius,  335  ;  the  reason  why  he  did 
not  acknowledge  his  dramas  either  by 
his  will  or  before  his  death,  338 ;  the 
value  in  which  he  held  George  Her- 


Bacon,  Francis — continued 
bert's  judgment,  339  ;  his  renunciation 
of  poetry,  ib.  ;  contrast  between  his 
life  and  his  writings,  366 

Bacon,  Lady  Anne,  complaint  of  against 
Lord  Essex,  43,  79,  240  ;  her  alarm 
at  Bacon's  intimacy  with  Perez,  44, 
79  ;  and  the  dangers  of  London  life, 
ib.,  309;  the  letters  of,  49;  and  the 
sale  of  "  markes,"  50;  and  Francis 
Bacon's  religious  views,  299  ;  and  her 
publications,  320 ;  her  objection  to 
acting  and  writing,  323  ;  to  riotous 
living,  330 

Bacon,  Sir  Nicholas,  and  the  use  of  a 
contemporary  mask  to  hide  his  author- 
ship, 320 

Bacon-Shakespeare  Question,  the,  the 
evidence  of  dialect  on,  77  \  Sir  Theo- 
dore Martin  on,  116  ;  Professor  A.  R. 
Wallace  on,  118;  Sir  Henry  Irving 
on,  124;  and  the  Earls  of  Essex, 
Pembroke,  and  Southampton,  129; 
curiosities  of  the  literature  of,  353 

Bacon  versus  Shakespeare,  Edwin  Reed's, 
130 

Baconians,  the,  their  neglect  of  the 
Sonnets  and  Plays,  i ;  their  view  of 
the  scholarship  of  the  author  of  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  and  Sonnets,  68; 
and  the  Pallas-Shake-speare  evidence, 
281  et  seq.  ;  the  extreme,  311 ;  and  the 
British  Weekly,  368 

Bacon's  works,  the  theory  that  Shake- 
speare might  have  written,  365 

Banbury,  Earl  of,  the  paternity  case  of, 
238  [note) 

Bandello's  Tales,  male  impersonators 
in,  264 

Bartholomew  Fair,  Jonson's  exposition 
of  the  triangular  love-picture  of  Bacon, 
Southampton,  and  the  "  Dark  Lady" 
in,  161 

Baynes,  Professor,  and  Shakespeare's 
familiarity  with  Ovid,  92 ;  and  the 
authorship  of  the  Sonnet  to  Florio,  182 

Beeching,  Rev.  Professor,  and  parallels 
to  the  Platonism  of  the  Sonnets,  257 

"  Better  angel,  the,"  the  identity  of,  247 

Birch's  Memoirs,  and  Antonio  Perez,  51 

Blackie,  John  Stuart,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  269 

Blackwood s  Magazine,  a  writer  in,  and 
the  "Rival  Poets,"  221;  and  the 
identity  of  Hews  of  Sonnet  XX. ,  357 

Blount,  Edward,  and  the  Dedication  and 
Address  over  the  signaturesof  Heminge 
and  Condell,  113;  his  knowledge  of 
Bacon's  authorship,  271 

Bodley,  Sir  Thomas,  and  Bacon's  later 
life,  123 

Bonstetten,  the  Swiss,  friendship  of,  with 
the  poet  Gray,  257 

Bowden,  Father,  and  Shakespeare's 
religion,  97 


376 


INDEX 


Boy-actors,  the  earliest  mention  of,  6i ; 
reference  to,  in  Hamlet,  62,  330 ;  and 
court  gallants,  ib. 

Brandes,  George,  and  the  Italian  scholar- 
ship of  the  author  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays,  72 ;  and  Bacon's  visit  to  Italy, 
200;  and  parallels  to  the  Platonism 
of  the  Sonnets,  257 

British  Weekly^  the,  and  the  Baconians, 
368 

Brown,  Charles  Armytage,  and  the 
Herbert  theory  of  the  Sonnets,  138 

Bruno,  Giordano,  traces  of  his  philosophy 
in  the  Sonnets,  2r8,  226,  229 ;  in  Lon- 
don, 219;  at  Oxford,  ib.,  229;  the 
date  of  his  works,  230 

Brydges,  Mistress,  and  the  Earl  of  Essex, 

79 
Burbage,  John,  andWilliam  Shakespeare, 

77 

Burghley,  Lord,  favourite  cipher  device 
of,  8 ;  his  objection  to  waste  of  time 
over  Sonnets,  &c, ,  86;  similarity  be- 
tween a  letter  to,  from  Bacon,  and 
Sonnet  ii. ,  181 ;  and  Giordano  Bruno, 
219 

Burke's  Bible,  21 

Bushell,  Thomas,  52 

Butler,  Samuel,  and  the  Sonnets,  32 ; 
and  the  "Scandal,"  33;  and  Mr, 
Sidney  Lee,  247 


Calendar  of  State  Papers,  letter  in,  from 
Ben  Jonson  to  Lord  Salisbury,  iii 

Campion,  Thomas,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  274 

Canaidos,  use  of  the  term  by  Marston, 

"Canopy  Sonnet,"  the.  See  Sonnet 
cxxv. 

Capell  and  the  "lameness"  of  Shake- 
speare, 223 

Capias  utlegatum,  the  old  legal  term, 
42  ;  its  reference  to  Bacon,  263 

Carew  family,  projected  alliance  of,  with 
William  Herbert,  203 

Cecil,  Mr.  Secretary,  two  letters  to,  41 ; 
his  protection  of  Bacon,  41 ;  strik- 
ing phrases  in  the  letter  to,  from 
William  Herbert,  shortly  after  his  re- 
lease from  the  Fleet  Prison,  170,  313 ; 
and  the  scandal  about  Mary  Fitton, 
238 

Chapman,  reference  to,  in  the  Sonnets, 
209,  220 

Characteristics,  Professor  Minto's,  and 
the  authorship  of  the  Sonnet  to  Florio, 
184 

Children  of  the  Chapel  Stript  and 
Whipt,   The,  61 

Church,  Dean,  and  Bacon's  self-asser- 
tion, 295 

Churchyard,  T.,  contemporary  court 
satire  by,  150 


Ciphers,  biliteral,  7 ;  and  politicians  of 

the  Essex  and  Burghley  parties,  8; 

Anthony  and  Francis  Bacon  experts 

in,  ib.  ;  varied  kinds  of,  ib. 
Clarke,  J.  Freeman,  and  the  theory  that 

Shakespeare     might     have     written 

Bacon's  works,  365 
Cobham,    Lord,   his   objection  to  the 

introduction    of  Sir    John  Oldcastle 

into  Henry  IV.,  323 
Cogitata    et    Visa,     Bacon's,   and    the 

question  of  Bacon's  lack  of  time  for 

play-writing,  299 
Coke,  Attorney-General,    his  squabble 

with  Bacon,  40-42, 
Colours    of  Good    and  Evil,     Bacon's 

Essay  on,  and  the  "woman  coloured 

ill"  of  the  Sonnets,  246 
Concealed  authorship   in    Elizabethan 

days,  340 
"Confession  of  Faith,"  Bacon's,  nobility 

of,  260  ;  self-revelation  in,  327 
Copyright  in  Shakespeare's  time,  326 
Coriolanus,    Baconian    simile    in,    241 

{note) 
Critoy,   Monsieur,    authorship  of    the 

letter  to,  320 
Cryptograms,  worthlessness  of,  7 
"  Cynthia,"  The  address  to,  authorship 

of,  174,  175 
Cynthia's  Revels,  attacks  on   Marston 

and  Dekker  in,  82 


Damon  and  Pythias,  in  Jonson's 
Bartholomew  Fair,  161 

Daniel,  Samuel,  and  the  Sonnet  to 
Florio,  184 ;  reference  to,  in  the 
Sonnets,  209,  220 

"  Dark  Lady,"  the,  Sonnets  referring  to, 
131,  254;  identified  by  Mr.  Tyler 
as  Mistress  Fitton,  132 ;  the  last 
Sonnets  to,  145  ;  her  intrigues,  146 ; 
evidence  in  the  Newdigate  documents 
identifying  her  with  Mistress  Fitton, 
146  ;  the  chronology  of  the  episode  of, 
195;  allusions  to,  in  Sonnets  cxxvii. 
to  CLii. ,  235  ;  moral  character  of,  239  ; 
Massey  and  the  love  of  the  author  of 
the  Sonnets  for  her,  254 

Davies  of  Hereford,  John,  testimony 
borne  by  him  in  a  sonnet  to  Bacon 
of  Bacon's  poetic  faculty,  275 

De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  Bacon's 
remarks  in,  on  Poetry,  339  ;  the 
Swans  mentioned  in,  and  the  expres- 
sion "  Swan  of  Avon,"  369 

Defence  of  Contraries,  The,  the  trans- 
lator of,  and  the  Bacons,  291 

Defiance  to  Enoy,  Hall's,  20 

Dekker,  Thomas,  and  the  War  of  the 
Theatres,  82  ;  his  Satiromastix,  83 

Delia,  Daniel's,  dedication  of,  192;  a 
model  for  the  form  of  verse  used  in 
the  Sonnets,  203 


INDEX 


377 


De  moribus  interpretis,  Bacon's  refer- 
ence in,  to  the  habit  of  working  under 
a  mask,  322 

Device  of  the  Indian  Prince,  The,  simi- 
larity of,  to  the  Sonnets,  187 

Devices  for  the  Earl  of  Essex,  Bacon's 
connection  with,  38;  descriptions  of,  by 
Rowland  White,  ib.  ;  evidence  in,  of 
Bacon's  poetic  faculty,  276 ;  remini- 
scences in,  of  the  Sonnets  of  Hamlet, 
the  early  Plays,  and  of  Promus,  278  ; 
speeches  of  the  Hermit  in,  277,  332 

Diana,  Montemayor's,  male  impersona- 
tors in,  264 ;  its  connection  with  the 
authorship  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays, 
ib.  ;  date  of  its  translation  into 
English,  265  ;  English  MS.  versions 
of,  ib. 

Digges,  Leonard,  and  the  Stratford 
monument  to  Shakespeare,  105 

Direy,  M.  Louis,  and  the  Sonnets,  363 

Dixon,  Hepworth,  on  Bacon's  magni- 
ficence at  his  wedding,  296  ;  and  the 
early  part  of  Bacon's  life,  318 

Dowden,  Professor,  and  Judge  Webb's 
Baconian  errors,  22  ;  his  triangular 
duel  with  Professor  Tyrrell  and  Webb, 
109  ;  and  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
138 

Drake,  Dr. ,  and  the  individual  to  whom 
the  majority  of  the  Shakespeare  Son- 
nets were  addressed,  131 

Droeshout  engraving  of  Shakespeare, 
the,  98,  loi ;  Ben  Jonson's  address 
to  the  reader  facing,  354 

Dyer,  Sir  Edward,  alleged  dedication  of 
Sonnet  xx.  to,  360 


Edmonds,  Charles,  discovery  by,  192 

Edney,  or  Enney,  Francis  Bacon's  ser- 
vant, 49  ;  identity  of,  52 

Edwards,  W.  H.,  his  effort  to  prove 
that  Shakespeare  could  not  have 
written  the  plays  attributed  to  him, 
281 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  dinner  to,  at  Oxford, 
139 ;  pleasures  and  recreations  of, 
144  ;  allusions  to,  in  the  Sonnets,  225, 
226  ;  her  suspicion  of  Richard  II. ,  324 

Elizabethan  age,  the,  one  of  treasons 
and  conspiracies,  324 ;  authors  and 
printers  in,  343 

Elizabethan  court,  masques  and  revels 
of,  240 

Elizabethan  London,  vice  in,  216 

Elizabethan  maids  of  honour,  237 ; 
morality  of,  240 

Elizabethan  stage,  the,  character  of,  62 

Emery,  Abbas  Jac.  Andr.,  and  Bacon's 
religious  faith,  261 

England's  Helicon,  the  address  to 
"  Cynthia  "  in,  174 

Envoy  of  Sonnets  and  poems,  the,  pecu- 
liar significance  of,  353 


Epictetus,  Healey's,  dedication  of,  193 

Epigrams,  Ben  Jonson's,  dedication 
of,  6 

Erasmus  and  the  "  Gardens  of  Adonis," 
69 

Essays,  Bacon's,  proof  of  his  philosophi- 
cal spirit  in,  105  ;  date  of  their  publi- 
cation, 120  ;  successive  alterations  and 
revisions  of,  315  ;  the  first  book  which 
bore  the  name  of  Francis  Bacon  on 
the  title-page,  325 ;  the  dedication 
of,  325 

Essex,  the  Earl  of,  and  devices,  39  ;  his 
friendship  with  Bacon,  43 ;  his  in- 
trigues with  Queen  Elizabeth's  maids 
of  honour,  ib.  ;  Lady  Anne  Bacon's 
complaint  against,  43  ;  procures  a  pen- 
sion for  Antonio  Perez,  44  ;  amours 
of,  79  ;  the  trial  of,  and  Bacon,  90 ;  a 
hostile  influence  to  Bacon  and  the 
Cecils,  137 ;  rebellious  uprising  of, 
142  ;  scant  allusions  to,  in  the  Sonnets, 
166 ;  references  to,  in  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare,  166  ;  execution  of,  167 ; 
no  evidence  that  he  knew  Shakespeare, 
167  ;  his  friendship  with  Bacon,  168  ; 
his  correspondence  with  Bacon  and 
Cecil,  169,  172 ;  resemblance  of 
thought  in  his  letters  and  two  of  the 
Sonnets,  173  ;  his  letter  to  the  Earl  of 
Rutland,  ib.  ;  letter  from  Bacon  to, 
177;  mystery  of  the  Sonnets  known  to, 
ib.  ;  beheaded,  178  ;  the  part  taken 
by  Bacon  in  his  trial,  179  ;  dedication 
to,  of  Bacon's  "Travels  and  Studies," 
208  ;  contemporary  evidence  that  he 
had  literary  work  composed  for  him 
by  others,  249 ;  and  the  remarkable 
paper  discovered  in  the  Lambeth 
Collection,  287 

Essex's  Device  before  the  Queen,  mention 
of  the  "Gardens  of  Adonis"  in,  70; 
letter  in,  to  the  Queen,  288.  See  also 
Device 

Essex  Treason  Case,  the,  breach  in 
friendship  between  Bacon  and  South- 
ampton caused  by,  178 

Examen  de  la  Philosophic  de  Bacon, 
Count  Joseph  de  Maistre's  admission 
in,  of  Bacon's  poetic  genius,  273 


Farewell  to  Folly,  Greene's,  and  con- 
cealed authorship,  340 
Farmer,  Dr.,  and  the  identification  of 

H.     S,    in    Florio's    A     VVorlde    of 

Wordes,  184 
"  Farnaby  "  poem,  the,  authorship  of, 

188,  336 
Father  Hubbard's  Tales,  Thomas  Mid- 

dleton's,  and  rich  young  squires  from 

the  country,  308 
Faunt,    Nicholas,     his     complaint     of 

Francis  Bacon's  refusal  to  see  him  at 

his  chambers,  321 


378 


INDEX 


Ferrers,  the  lawyer,  and  dramatic 
pageants,  344 ;  his  Mirrors  for 
Magistrates,  ib. 

Field,  Richard,  date  of  his  publication 
of  Venus  and  Adonis,  266 

Figure  Anagram,  the,  354 

Fitton,  Mistress,  her  acquaintanceship 
with  Shakespeare,  9 ;  her  possible 
connection  with  the  "scandal"  of 
the  Sonnets,  55 ;  and  William  Herbert, 
55  ;  identified  by  Mr.  Tyler  as  the 
"Dark  Lady"  of  the  Sonnets,  132; 
the  number  of  people  who  believe  her 
to  be  the  "  Dark  Lady,"  146  ;  Bacon's 
intimacy  with,  149 ;  allegation  that 
she  was  Shakespeare's  mistress,  151  ; 
and  William  Herbert,  156  ;  birth  of 
a  child  by,  156 ;  Mr.  Tyler's  re- 
searches into  her  history,  163 ;  her 
marriage  with  Captain  Polwhele,  164  ; 
Sarrazin's  view  that  she  is  not  the 
lady  of  the  Sonnets  or  early  Plays, 
195  ;  and  the  question  of  the  robbery 
of  the  mistress  of  the  author  of  the 
Sonnets,  214  ;  apparent  allusion  to, 
in  Sonnet  cxxi. ,  228  ;  her  liaison  with 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  238 ;  MS. 
pedigree  of,  240;  improbability  that 
she  was  Bacon's  mistress,  253 ;  pos- 
sible reason  why  she  went  to  meet 
Pembroke  with  her  clothes  tucked  up 
like  a  man,  264 

Fitton  family,  the,  punning  line  on 
the  monument  to,  246 

Fletcher,  LL.D.,  Giles,  sonnet  by, 
248 ;  parallel  between  his  authorship 
and  Bacon's,  344 

Florio,  John,  and  the  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, 183,  185  ;  dedication  to,  193 

Florio,  the  Sonnet  to,  probable  author 
of,  182  ;  the  date  of,  203 

Folio  of  1623,  the,  passage  withdrawn 
from,  58  ;  mystery  surrounding  the 
production  of,  101  ;  an  immense  work 
of  revision,  315,  316;  the  preparation 
of,  for  publication,  and  Bacon's  re- 
nunciation of  poetry,  340 

Forest  of  Fancy ,  the,  the  author  of,  and 
the  writing  of  poems  for  others,  249 

Furness,  Howard,  and  the  dates  of 
Shakespeare's  Plays,  140 


Gallup,  Mrs.,  cryptograms  of,  7, 
356;  and  the  parentage  of  Bacon, 
216 ;  and  the  reason  why  Bacon 
concealed  his  authorship  of  the  works 
of  Shakespeare,  265 

"Gardens  of  Adonis,"  the,  allusion  to, 
in  Henry  IV.,  69 

Garnett,  Richard,  C.B.,  and  the  Baco- 
nian authorship,  272 

Gascoigne,  George,  and  the  writing  of 
Sonnets  for  others,  249 ;  his  comedy 
The  Supposes,  344  ;  his  career,  345 


Gawsworth,  monument    to  the  Fitton 

family  at,  246 

Genius,  the  power  of,  126 

German  Shakespeare  Society,  the,  and 
criticism  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays 
and  Sonnets,  243 

Gesta  Grayorum,  Francis  Bacon's,  17, 
18 ;  evidence  in,  of  Bacon  being 
brought  into  public  connection  with 
Shakespeare,  291 

Gibson  Papers,  rough  drafts  in,  of 
speeches  in  the  devices  in  Bacon's 
writing,  39 

Gray,  the  poet,  friendship  of,  for  Bon- 
stetten,  257 ;  his  letters  to  Nicholls 
and  Bonstetten  parallels  to  the  feel- 
ings phrased  in  the  Sonnets,  ib. 

Great  Assizes  at  Parnassus,  George 
Wither's,  and  Bacon's  poetic  faculty, 
274 

Greatest  Birth  of  Time,  Bacon's,  2io ; 
his  magnificence  in,  295 

Greene,  Robert,  his  jealousy  of  Shake- 
speare, 124 

Greville,  Sir  Fulke,  96  ;  Essex's  letter 
of  advice  to,  174 ;  and  Giordano 
Bruno,  219  ;  his  intimacy  with  Bacon, 
230 

Grosart,  Dr.,  and  Hall's  poems,  16; 
and  the  interpretation  of  The  Phoenix 
and  the  Turtle,  167 


Hall,  Joseph,  his -use  of  "Labeo," 
14 ;  his  literary  war  with  Marston, 
ib.  ;  burning  of  his  Satires,  15  ;  his 
Virgidemice,  ib.  ;  Bacon's  authorship 
of  Venus  and  Adonis  known  to,  ib.  ; 
his  attack  on  "  Labeo,"  20 ;  a  moral 
satirist,  24;  allusions  to  Shakespearian 
drama  in  his  satires,  27 ;  his  know- 
ledge of  Bacon's  authorship,  271 

Hall,  W.,  suggested  as  W.  H.  by  Sidney 
Lee,  151  ;  name  of,  in  front  of  the 
Shakespeare  Sonnets,  192 

Halliwell  -  Phillips,  H.  O.,  and  the 
theatres  in  Bacon's  days,  328 

Hamlet,  Marston's  imitation  of,  22  ;  lines 
struck  from,  in  the  last  revision  of  the 
Plays,  58  ;  reference  to  boy-actors  in, 
62 ;  French  scholarship  of  the  author 
of,  73 ;  the  date  of,  a  clue  to  the  date 
of  the  adverse  rumours  about  Bacon, 
262  ;  the  personality  of  Bacon  in,  310 ; 
revision  of,  317  ;  and  boy-actors,  330  ; 
and  Plato's  Republic,  361 

Harris,  T.  L.,  parallel  between  his 
literary  history  and  that  of  Bacon,  279 

Harvey,  Sir  William,  and  W.  H.,  197 

Hatton,  Lady,  her  contemplated  mar- 
riage with  Wm.  Herbert,  149 

Hayward,  Dr.,  allusion  to  in  The  Silent 
Woman,  155 

Hazlitt,  W.  C. ,  his  Shakespear  (sic),  59  ; 
his  knowledge  of  Elizabethan  litera- 


INDEX 


379 


Hazlitt,  W.  C— continued 
ture,  ib.  ;  and  Shakespeare's  journey 
to  London  when  a  boy,  ib.  ;  and 
Jonson's  "  eulogy  "  on  Shakespeare  in 
\he. Poetaster,  ib.  ;  and  "the  scandal," 
60 ;  and  the  author  of  Venus  and 
Adonis,  ib.  ;  and  Thorpe's  estimate 
of  Shakespeare,  193 ;  and  Bacon's 
poetic  faculty,  269 ;  and  the  incident 
of  Yorick's  skull  in  Hamlet,  318 

Heminge  and  Condell,  the  Dedication 
and  Address  over  the  signature  of,  112 

Heneage,  Sir  Thomas,  and  Bacon's  pro- 
motion, 205,  234  ;  his  connection  with 
the  theatres,  234 

Henry  IV.,  Lord  Cobham  and  the  char- 
acter of  Sir  John  Oldcastle  in,  323 

Henry  IV.,  Dr.  Hayward's,  the  dedica- 
tion in  to  Essex,  324 

Henry  V.,  French  scholarship  of  the 
author  of,  73  ;  references  to  Essex  in, 
166 

Henty  VI, ,  scholarship  displayed  by  the 
author  of,  69 

Henry,  M.  Fernand,  and  the  Sonnets, 

363 

Henslowe,  his  theatre,  233 ;  his  silence 
as  to  Shakespeare,  235 

Henslowe's  Diary,  reference  in  to  Dekker 
and  Chettle's  Troilus  and  Cressida,  83 

Herbert,  George,  evidence  borne  by  to 
Bacon's  poetic  faculty,  274  ;  the  value 
Bacon  placed  on  his  judgment,  339 

Herbert,  William,  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
acquaintanceship  of,  with  Shakespeare, 
9,  129 ;  friendship  with  Bacon,  43 ; 
and  Mary  Fitton,  55  ;  date  of  his  first 
intimacy  with  Shakespeare,  133 ;  his 
presence  at  the  dinner  given  at  Oxford 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  139  ;  his  liaison 
with  Mistress  Fitton,  146,  238  ;  one  of 
the  three  Wills,,  146,  236 ;  his  visit  to 
London  in  1595,  148 ;  marriage  con- 
templated between  him  and  Lady 
Hatton,  149,  262 ;  his  frequent  ap- 
pearances at  court,  ib.  ;  depicted  in 
The  Silent  Woman,  152 ;  and  the 
blandishments  of  Mary  Fitton,  156 ; 
Sonnet  by,  ib. ;  one  of  the  true  founders 
of  the  United  States,  160 ;  lack  of 
evidence  of  friendship  with  Shake- 
speare, 165 ;  analogies  with  the  Sonnets 
in  his  letter  to  Cecil,  170,  313  ;  resem- 
blance between  the  wording  of  the 
letter  and  that  of  the  Sonnets,  171 ; 
dedication  to,  193 ;  project  of  marrying 
him  into  the  Carew  family,  203 ;  the 
fugitive  in  Sonnet  cxliii.,  242 

Herand,  John  A. ,  and  the  Shakespeare 
Sonnets,  131;  and  the  "two  loves" 
of  the  author  of  the  Sonnets,  362 
•  Herbertites,"  the,  their  battle  with  the 
"Southamptonites,"  8  ;  and  the  inti- 
macy between  Shakespeare  and  young 
Herbert,  133 


Hero  and  Leander,  Marlowe's,  dedica- 
tion of,  193 

Hertzberg,  Herr,  and  the  original  source 
of  the  last  two  Sonnets,  70 

Hews,  "Mr.,"  the  identity  of,  in  Sonnet 
XX. ,  356  et  seq. 

History  of  Felix  and  Phtlomena,  The, 
the  performance  of,  and  the  date  of 
the  production  of  The  Two  Gentlemen 
of  Verona,  264 

History  of  King  Henry  VII,,  allusion  in, 
to  treatment  of  official  records,  38 ; 
allusion  in,  to  the  "eclipse"  of  the 
Queen,  226 ;  allusion  in,  to  Bacon's 
theory  of  the  nature  of  fire,  244 

Howard,  Lady  Mary,  and  the  Earl  of 
Essex,  79 

Howard,  Lord  Henry,  Bacon's  reference 
to  the  threat  on  his  life  in  his  letter 
to,  218 

H.  S.,  in  Florio's  Worlde  of  Wordes, 
identification  of,  184 

Hughes,  Mrs. ,  and  female  parts  on  the 
stage,  360 

Hughes,  William,  and  the  Hews  of  Son- 
net  XX.,  358;  description  of  him  in 
Sonnet  Liii.,  ib.  ;  his  leaving  Shake- 
speare's company  for  AUeyn's,   358, 

359 
Hughes,  William,  the  musician,  360 


Iliad,  Chapman's,  allusions  to,  in  the 
Sonnets,  220 

Informer,  The  expression,  used  in  Son- 
net cxxv.,  56,  232 

Instauratio  Magna,  Bacon's,  proof  of 
his  philosophical  spirit  in,  105 ;  and 
his  earlier  aspirations,  270 

Interpretation  of  Nature,  The,  Bacon's, 
autobiographical  passage  in,  181 

"Invention,"  the  word,  significance  of 
its  use  by  Bacon,  328 

Irving,  Sir  Henry,  and  the  Bacon- 
Shakespeare  question,  124 

"  Isham  Reprints,"  The,  a  dedication 
in,  192 

Italian  free  thinkers.  Bacon's  fondness 
for  meeting,  229 

Italian  Renaissance  culture,  the  refined 
Platonism  of,  257 

Italian  morals,  imitated  by  patrons  of 
the  theatrical  companies,  329 

Italian  Sonnets,  and  the  study  of  Plato, 
214 

Italy,  improbability  of  Shakespeare 
having  visited,  200;  Bacon's  oppor- 
tunities for  visiting,  ib. 


JAGGARD  and  the  printing  of  Sonnet 
cxxxviii.,  241 

Jonson,  Ben,  ingenious  prevarications 
of,  29 ;  his  early  attitude  towards 
Shakespeare  and  Bacon,  81 ;   his  in- 


38o 


INDEX 


Jonson,  Ben — continued 

timacy  with  Pembroke,  ib.  ;  his  sati- 
rical comments  on  actors  having  arms 
from  Heralds'  College,  ib.  ;  concealed 
personalities  in  his  plays,  82 ;  his 
enmity  and  friendship  with  Marston, 
.  83 ;  his  friendship  with  Bacon,  93 ; 
his  view  of  Shakespeare,  94 ;  his  re- 
spect for  Shakespeare's  genius,  ib. ,  97  ; 
misleading  character  of  his  laudatory 
verses  of  Shakespeare,  98 ;  his  re- 
conciliation to  Bacon,  loi ;  Shake- 
spearians  and  his  testimony,  11 1 ; 
letter  from,  to  Lord  Salisbury,  in  ; 
allusions  by,  to  Southampton  and 
Bacon,  155 ;  his  knowledge  of  the 
scandal  of  the  town,  157  ;  his  know- 
ledge of  Mary  Fitton's  character,  157  ; 
mystery  of  the  Sonnets  known  to, 
177,  180 ;  his  earlier  and  later  view 
about  Bacon,  250  ;  the  reason  why  he 
did  not  divulge  Bacon's  authorship  of 
Shakespeare,  266;  the  "real  Shake- 
speare "  of,  315  ;  the  money  made  by 
him  over  his  Plays,  326 ;  and  his  op- 
ponents in  the  war  of  the  theatres, 
329  ;  his  address  to  the  reader  facing 
the  Droeshout  engraving,  354 ;  his 
opportunities  for  culture,  365 

Keats,  what  is  known  of,  125 ;  his  works 
not  a  parallel  case  to  those  of  Shake- 
speare, ib. 

Kemp,  Will,  one  of  the  three  Wills, 
146,  150,  236  ;  dedication  of  his  Nine 
daies  Wofider,  150 

Kind  Hartes  Dreame,  Chettle's,  refer- 
ences in,  to  topical  jests,  62 

King  Lear,  revision  of,  317 

Knight,  Charles,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  269 

Knights  of  the  Helmet,  the  order  of 
the,  17 

Knollys,  Sir  William,  the  Informer  of 
Sonnet  cxxv.,  56,  232  ;  his  admiration 
for  Mary  Fitton,  146,  232,  237 ;  one 
of  the  three  Wills,  146,  236 ;  and 
Queen  Elizabeth's  Maids  of  Honour, 
237 

"  Labeo,"  the  character,  in  Marston's 
Pigmalion  s  Image,  12  etseq.  ;  in  Hall's 
Satires,  13  et  seq.  ;  his  identity,  ib.  ; 
and  Bacon — one  person,  17  ;  in  the 
Reactio,  21 

La  Jessie,  Jean  de.  Sonnet  addressed  by, 
to  Bacon,  284 ;  overlooked  by  Birch 
and  Spedding,  ib.  ;  his  acquaintance 
with  English  court  life,  285 ;  clue  to 
his  reference  to  Pallas,  286 

Lee,  Sidney,  and  ciphers  in  the  folio 
Shakespeare,  7 ;  and  Shakespeare's 
acquaintanceship  with  Wm.  Herbert 
and  Mistress  Fitton,  9,  132  ;  and  the 
Earls  of  Pembroke  and  Southampton, 


Lee,  Sidney — continued 

147;  and  W.  H.,  151;  and  The 
Phcenix  and  the  Turtle,  167  ;  and  the 
three  Wills  in  the  Fortnightly  Review, 
239  ;  his  change  of  opinion  as  to  Mr. 
W.  H. ,  247  ;  and  the  colour  of  South- 
ampton's hair,  ib.  ;  appeal  to,  249 ; 
his  knowledge  of  Shakespeare's  times, 
249  ;  and  copyright  in  Shakespeare's 
time,  326 

Leicester,  Lord,  with  Alasco  and  a  com- 
pany of  court  notables  at  Oxford,  219 

Letter  of  Advice  to  Queen  Elizabeth^ 
the,  authorship  of,  320 

Licia^  Giles  Fletcher's,  Sonnet  in,  248 

Life  and  Letters  of  Francis  Bacon,  letters 
in,  accepted  as  Bacon's  by  Mr.  Sped- 
ding, 171 ;  and  the  personal  relation- 
ship between  Bacon  and  Southampton, 
210 

Life  of  Bacon,  Montagu's,  142 

Lives  of  Eminent  Persons,  John  Aubrey's, 
164 

Long  Meg  of  Westminster,  216 

"  Loose-legged  Lais,"  the,  in  Marston's 
Satyres,  215  ;  Dr.  Brinsley  Nicholson's 
suggestion  as  to,  216 

Lougher,  Capt.,  and  Mary  Fitton,  240, 
241 

Lover's  Lament,  The,  145 

Love's  Labour  s  Lost,  the  work  of  a 
highly  educated  genius,  29  ;  signs  of 
the  "Dark  Lady"  episode  in,  195; 
revision  of,  196 ;  date  of,  199 ;  in- 
timately connected  with  the  Sonnets, 
306,  313;  possibly  Bacon's  first  dra- 
matic sketch,  309  ;  revision  of,  317 

Love's  Martyr  or  Rosalinds  Complaint, 
Robert  Chester's,  167 

Lucrece,  resemblance  between  the  dedi- 
cationof,  andSonnet  xxvi. ,  2,  206 ;  the 
dedication  of,  3,  143 ;  cipher  device 
at  the  beginning  of,  4,  7,  356 ;  value 
of  the  cipher  in,  as  proof  of  authorship, 
8  ;  date  of  the  registration  of,  207 ; 
date  of  the  dedication  to  Southampton, 
209 ;  first  appearance  of  William  Shake- 
speare in,  289 ;  date  of  its  entry  at 
Stationers'  Hall,  290;  proof  of  Ba- 
conian authorship  in,  305  ;  the  author 
of,  also  theauthor  of  Venus  and  Adonis, 
306;  Shakespeare  had  no  share  in 
writing,  312 

Lucy,  Sir  Thomas,  96 

Lytton,  E.  Bulwer,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  269 


Macaulay,  Thomas  Babington,  after- 
wards Lord,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  269 

Macbeth,  the  writing  of,  317 

Magistrates'  Mirror,  the,  20 

Maistre,  Count  Joseph  de,  his  attack  on 
Bacon's  philosophy,  273 


INDEX 


381 


•'  Man  right  fair,  The,"  identity  of,  247 

Manes  Ver^lamiani,  the,  testimony  in, 
to  Bacon's  poetic  faculty,  275 

Markes,  Francis  Bacon's  estate,  sale 
of,  49 

Markham,  Gervase,  and  the  publication 
of  his  works,  343 

Marlowe,  Kit,  and  Marston's  "  Tubrio," 
216  ;  and  the  "  Rival  Poets,"  220 

Marston,  John,  his  use  of  "  Labeo," 
14  ;  his  literary  war  with  Hall,  ib,  ; 
suppression  of  his  Pigmalion  and 
Scourge  of  Villanie,  15 ;  Bacon's 
authorship  of  Venus  and  Adonis 
known  to,  ib.  ;  his  appreciation  of 
Shakespeare,  22  ;  a  moral  satirist,  24  ; 
allusion  to  Shakespearian  drama  in 
his  Satyres,  27  ;  allusions  to  Bacon  in, 
29-31 ;  and  the  War  of  the  Theatres, 
82 ;  commencement  of  his  Hterary 
career,  208 ;  reference  to,  in  Sonnet 
XXXII.,  209;  contemporary  evidence 
by  him  that  certain  aristocrats  had 
literary  work  composed  for  them,  249; 
his  knowledge  of  Bacon's  authorship, 
271 

Martin,  Sir  Theodore,  and  the  view  of 
Shakespeare's  contemporaries  as  to 
the  authorship  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays,  116 

Masculus  Partus  Tetnporis,  Bacon's,  218 

"  Master  -  mistress  "  Sonnet.  See  Son- 
net XX. 

Masque  of  the  Indian  Prince,  Bacon's, 

159 

Masques  and  revels  at  the  court,  and 
morality,  240 

Masques  at  Gray's  Inn,  Bacon's  con- 
nection with,  38 ;  descriptions  of,  by 
Rowland  White,  ib. 

Massey,  Gerald,  his  work  on  the  Son- 
nets, 9;  and  Sonnet  cix.,  54;  his  view 
of  the  scholarship  of  the  author  of  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  and  Sonnets,  67 ; 
and  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  137, 
166 ;  and  the  alleged  allusions  in 
Sonnet  CXi.  to  Shakespeare's  profes- 
sion as  an  actor,  228  {note)  ;  and 
"The  Dark  Lady,"  255;  and  the 
Hews  of  Sonnet  xx.  357 

Masson,  David,  and  the  Shakespeare 
Sonnets,  190 

Matthew,  Sir  Toby,  his  account  of 
Bacon's  character,  75  ;  his  intimacy 
with  Bacon,  267 ;  his  knowledge  of 
Bacon's  authorship,  271 ;  the  part 
taken  by  him  in  playing  "Lord 
Essex's  Device  "  at  Cambridge,  276 

Meautys,  Sir  Thomas,  52 

Menaphon,  Greene's,  phrase  used  by 
Nash  in  his  preface  to,  210 

Meres,  Francis,  and  Sonnet  LV.,  217; 
and  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona, 
264;  and  the  Pallas  -  Shakespeare 
question,  292 


Midsummer Ni^ht' s Dream,  A,  intimate 
connection  of,  with  the  Sonnets,  306, 

313 

Milton's  vocabulary,  72  ;  his  expressed 
views  on  love,  121  ;  parallel  between 
his  literary  style  and  Bacon's,  331 

Minto,  Professor,  and  the  authorship  of 
the  Sonnet  to  Florio,  182  ;  and  allu- 
sions to  Chapman  in  the  Sonnets, 
220 

Miracles,  Literary,  279,  305 

Mi?-ror  for  Magistrates,  Ferrers's,  the 
first  English  historic  legend,  344 

Moll  Cutpurse,  216 

Montaigne's  Essays,  Florio's  translation 
of,  185 

Morgan,  Appleton,  and  the  provincial- 
isms in  Shakespeare's  Plays  and 
Poems,  77 

"Mortal  Moon,  The,"  allusion  to  the 
eclipse  of,  225 

Moulton,  K.  C,  Mrs.  Fletcher,  and  a 
quotation  from  the  Sonnets,  367 

Mystery  of  William  Shakespeare,  The, 
Judge  Webb's,  107;  lucidity  and 
arrangement  of,  284 


Nash,  branded  with  opprobrium  in  the 
Scourge  of  Villanie,  25  ;  phrase  used 
by  him  in  his  preface  to  Greene's 
Menaphon,  210;  the  nobleman  ad- 
dressed in  his  Pierce  Penilesse,  212 

New  Atlantis,  The,  Bacon's  only  im- 
portant prose  work  of  imagination, 
335 ;  evidence  in,  of  his  aims  and 
tastes,  ib. 

Newdegate,  Anne,  evidence  in  Sir 
William  KnoUys's  letters  to,  of  his 
admiration  for  Mary  Fitton,  237 

Newdegate  family,  the,  documents  of, 
bearing  on  the  identification  of  the 
"Dark  Lady,"  146;  the  records  of, 
and  the  morality  of  the  Elizabethan 
maids  of  honour,  240 

New  method.  Bacon's,  and  his  earlier 
aspirations,  270 

Nichol, -Professor  John,  and  Bacon's  un- 
paralleled activity,  293 

Nicholson,  Dr.  Brinsley,  and  the  "loose- 
legged  Lais "  of  Marston's  Satyres, 
216 

Nine  daies  wonder,  dedication  of 
Will  Kemp's,  150 

Nomentack,  the  Indian,  the  person- 
ahty  of,  159 

Northumberland  MS.,  the,  almost  the 
only  piece  of  evidence  connecting  the 
names  Shakespeare  and  Bacon,  5 ; 
Mr.  Spedding  and,  6  ;  zodiacal  devices 
in,  8  ;  rough  drafts  in  Bacon's  hand- 
writing of  speeches  in  the  devices, 
39 

Notes  and  Queries,  and  Shakespeare's 
facial  expression,  12 


382 


INDEX 


Novum  Organum^  proof  of  Bacon's 
philosophic  spirit  in,  105  ;  and  his 
earlier  aspirations,  270,  272  ;  difficulty 
in  believing  that  the  author  was  also 
the  writer  of  the  Plays,  &c.,  of 
Shakespeare,  379 ;  revision  of,  317 

Observations  on  a  Libel,  Bacon's,  use  of 
a  portion  of  the  letter  to  Monsieur 
Critoy  in,  320 

Official  records,  the  treatment  of,  38 

*'  Of  Love,"  Bacon's  Essay,  analogy  be- 
tween and  the  "  syren  tears"  of  Sonnet 
cxix.,  228 

Othello,  use  of  the  word  preposterous 
in,  54;  date  of  its  publication,  316; 
additions  to,  ib. ;  Baconian  allusions 
in,  ib. 

Ovid's  Banquet  of  Sense,  Chapman's, 
allusions  in  the  Sonnets  to,  221 

Palgrave,  Francis  Turner,  and  the 
Sonnet-scandal,  62 

Palladis  Palatium,  William  Wrednot's, 
and  Bacon's  commonplace  books, 
294 

Palladis  Tamia,  Francis  Mere's,  and 
Bacon's  commonplace  books,  294 

Pallas,  connection  of,  with  Bacon,  285  ; 
La  Jessie's  reference  to,  286  ;  reference 
to,  in  a  paper  found  in  the  Lambeth 
collection,  ib.  ;  first  appearance  of, 
289 

Pallas  Shake-speare  evidence,  the  Baco- 
nians and,  281  et  seq. ;  and  Ben 
Jonson,  289 

Passionate  Pilgrim,  the,  probable  date 
of,  243 

Pembroke,  Earl  of.  See  Herbert,  William 

Percy,    Francis    Bacon's    man-servant, 

SO 

Perez,  Antonio,  friendship  of,  with  Bacon, 
43  ;  suspected  of  the  murder  of  Es- 
covedo,  44 ;  his  intimacy  with  Lady 
Rich,  45  ;  his  baseness,  46 

Phoenix  and  the  Turtle,  The,  167 ;  and 
"the  alone  Quetn,"  288 

Pickering,  Lord  Keeper,  and  Bacon's 
allusion  to  the  "eclipse"  of  the  Queen, 
225 

Pierce  Penilesse,  the  nobleman  ad- 
dressed in  Nash's,  212 

Pigmalion's  Image,  Marston's,  the 
character  "Labeo"  in,  12  et  seq.; 
reference  to  Venus  and  Adonis,  12, 
19  ;  the  spelling  of,  19  ;  an  imitation 
of  Venus  and  Adonis,  23  ;  date  of  the 
publication  of,  208  ;  similar  line  in 
and  Sonnet  xxxii. ,  209 

Platonism  of  the  Sonnets,  the,  parallel 
cases  to,  257 

Plays,  money  made  by  the  publication 
of,  326 

Poems  of  Shakespeare,  Mr.  Wyndham's 
edition  of,  191 


Poems,  the  writings  of,  not  a  slur  on  a 
man's  character  in  Elizabethan  times, 
310 

Poetaster,  Ben  Jonson's,  "Crispinus" 
in,  13  ;  attacks  on  play-writers  in,  54 ; 
references  in,  to  topical  jests,  62  ;  his 
allusions  in,  84  ;  light  which  it  throws 
on  the  authorship  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays,  85;  Bacon  depicted  in,  ib., 
310 ;  threatened  with  a  prosecution, 
ib.  ;  main  points  of,  as  aiming  at 
Bacon,  86;  Shakespeare  depicted  in, 

93 

Poetical  Rhapsody,  Francis  Davidson's, 
165 

Poetomachia,  the.  See  War  of  the 
Theatres 

Polwhele,  Captain,  his  marriage  with 
Mary  Fitton,  164 

Polyhymnia,  Peele's,  the  allusion  in,  to 
Essex,  and  the  identity  of  Hews,  357 

Pope,  Alexander,  his  false  judgment  on 
Bacon,  63,  259 

Posthumous  Letters,  William  Hunting- 
don's, 248  {note) 

Preposterous,  use  of  the  word,  53,  54 

"Procreation  Sonnets,"  the,  132;  the 
Earl  of  Southampton  in,  134 ;  and 
Bacon,  136;  the  subject  of,  191,  202 

Promus,  Bacon's,  mention  of  the  "  Gar- 
dens of  Adonis "  in,  70 ;  allusion  in, 
to  Bacon's  theory  of  the  nature  of 
fire,  244 ;  a  storehouse  for  subsequent 
literary  edifices,  294 

Psalms,  Bacon's,  the  standard  of  poetry 
in,  337  ;  the  dedication  of,  339 


Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  one  of  the  true 
founders  of  the  United  States,  161 

Randolph,  Thomas,  evidence  borne  by, 
to  Bacon's  poetic  faculty,  274 

Rape  of  Lucrece.     See  Lucrece 

Rawley,  William,  and  Bacon's  power 
of  paraphrasing,  73  ;  and  Bacon's 
character,  259 ;  the  reason  why  he 
did  not  divulge  Bacon's  authorship 
of  Shakespeare,  .266 ;  and  Bacon's 
facility  for  improving  other  people's 
language,  299 

Reactio,  Marston's,  20 ;  "  Labeo  "  in,  21 

Recusants,  the,  search  for,  96;  char- 
acters of  the  Shakespeare  Plays 
amongst,  ib. 

Reed,  Edwin,  and  Bacon's  poetic  faculty, 
269 

Remusat,  C.  de,  and  Bacon's  "Con- 
fession of  Faith,"  260 

Renaissance  literature,  and  young  girls 
attiring  themselves  as  pages,  264 

Returne  from  Parnassus,  the,  Burbage 
and  Kemp  in,  82 

Rich  Lady,  her  intimacy  with  Antonio 
Perez,  45  ;  identified  by  Gerald  Mas- 
sey  with  the  "Dark  Lady,"  255 


INDEX 


383 


Richard  II. ,  allusion  to,  by  Ben  Jonson, 
85  ;  performance  of,  89  (noie) ;  allu- 
sion to,  in  The  Silent  Woman,  155  ; 
and  the  rising  of  Essex,  i66  ;  its  con- 
nection with  the  rising  of  Essex,  and 
Bacon's  silence  about  Shakespeare, 
180,  324 ;  date  of  its  publication, 
324 ;  Queen  Elizabeth's  suspicion 
against,  ib. 

Richard  III.,  revision  of,  and  additions 
to,  317 

"  Rival  Poets,"  the,  allusions  to,  in  the 
Sonnets,  209,  220,  359 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  a  clever  parody  on, 
91  ;  signs  of  the  ' '  Dark  Lady  " 
episode  in,  195  ;  intimate  connection 
of,  with  the  Sonnets,  306,  313 

"  Rose,"  the,  Henslowe's  theatre,  233 

"Rose,"  the  term  of  endearment,  pos- 
sible reason  for  the  use  of,  in  the 
Sonnets,  233 

Ruscus,  the  identity  of,  321 

Russell,  Mistress  Ann,  marriage  of,  149, 
231 

Russells,  the,  and  masques  before  the 
Queen,  43,  55  ;  and  the  Earl  of  Essex, 

79 
Rutland,  the    Earl    of,   Lord    Essex's 
letter  to,  173 


Sanford,  John,  and  the  Earl  of  South- 
ampton's beauty,  139 
Sarrazin,  Gregor,  and  the ' '  Dark  Lady," 

19s 

Satiromastix ,  Dekker's,  light  which  it 
throws  on  the  authorship  of  the 
Shakespeare  Plays,  85 

Satyres,  Marston's,  light  which  they 
throw  on  the  authorship  of  the  Shake- 
speare Plays,  85  ;  allusions  to  South- 
ampton in,  215;  the  "loose-legged 
Lais"  in,  ib. 

Saviolo,  Vincento,  book  by,  and  As  You 
Like  It,"  186 

"Scandal,"  the,  in  the  Sonnets,  25,  32 
et  seq.  ;  in  contemporary  Satires,  26  ; 
Bacon's  connection  with,  35 ;  less 
repulsive  than  generally  considered, 
40 ;  what  it  really  was,  40  et  seq.  ; 
compromising  letters,  49 ;  references 
to,  in  Sonnets  CXX.,  cxxi.,  53  ;  possi- 
bility of  its  connection  with  Mary 
Fitton,  55 ;  W.  C.  Hazlitt  on, 
60 

Schmidt,  Alexander,  and  the  "Gardens 
of  Adonis"  in  Henry  VI.,  69 

Scourge  0/  Folly,  John  Davies's,  27 

Scourge  of  Villanie,  Marston's,  suppres- 
sion of,  15  ;  evidence  in,  of  Bacon's 
authorship  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  22  ; 
Nash  branded  in,  25  ;  thejpassage  in, 
concerning  "  Luscus,"  28;  Shake- 
speare depicted  in,  93 

Second  Frutes,  Florio's,  183 


Secret  Drama  of  Shakespeare's  Sonnets, 
The,  Gerald  Massey's,  9 ;  view  ex- 
pressed in,  on  the  author's  scholar- 
ship, 67;  and  the  "Procreation 
Sonnets,"  134 

Sejanus,  Ben  Jonson's,  the  production 
of,  27  ;  j^ags  inserted  in,  28 

Shadow  of  Night,  Chapman's,  allusions 
to,  in  the  Sonnets,  220 

Shakespeare  and  His  Times,  Drake's, 
and  the  individual  so  affectionately 
addressed  in  the  Sonnets,  131 

Shakespeare  Anniversary  of  1902,  the, 

367 

Shakespeare,  John,  96 

Shakespeare,  William,  the  facial  expres- 
sion of,  12  ;  his  over-editing  of  plays, 
27 ;  his  lack  of  classic  art,  28 ;  his 
true  position,  29 ;  his  breaches  of  the 
moral  law,  34 ;  absence  of  biographical 
hints  that  he  was  a  universal  scholar, 
72  ;  his  vocabulary,  ib.  ;  his  lack  of 
qualiiications  for  the  authorship  of  the 
Shakespeare  Plays  and  Poems,  76 ; 
his  inabiHty  to  have  written  Venus  and 
Adonis,  77 ;  Ben  Jonson's  early  atti- 
tude towards,  81  ;  his  familiarity  with 
Ovid,  92 ;  his  love  of  the  stage,  93 ; 
a  busy  actor-manager,  94  ;  his  hand 
in  the  Shakespeare  Plays,  95 ;  his 
reUgion,  97 ;  and  the  ghost  in  Kyd's 
Ur-Hamlet,  123 ;  Robert  Greene's 
jealousy  of,  124  ;  improbability  of  his 
being  closely  intimate  with  the  court, 
148 ;  his  signature  to  The  Phoenix 
and  Turtle,  167  ;  want  of  evidence 
that  he  knew  Essex,  168  ;  and  Italian 
dialogues  and  aphorisms,  185  ; 
Thorpe's  estimate  of,  193  ;  his  oppor- 
tunities for  visiting  Italy,  200 ;  and 
Bruno's  philosophy,  218;  the  "lame- 
ness "  of,  223  ;  allusions  in  the  Sonnets 
to  his  profession  as  an  actor,  228 ; 
courtly  favour  in  which  his  theatrical 
company  was  held,  234 ;  possible 
reasons  why  he  is  never  mentioned  by 
Bacon,  234;  silence  of  other  con- 
temporaries as  to  him,  235 ;  lack  of 
evidence  implicating  him  with  the 
scandal  about  Mary  Fitton,  238  ;  re- 
sentment of  his  detiironing  pure  idol- 
worship,  260 ;  and  Montemayor's 
Diana,  265  ;  the  hyphen  in  his  name, 
283,  286,  288  ;  his  lack  of  facilities  for 
producing  the  plays,  &c.,  296;  absence 
of  laudatory  laments  at  his  death, 
309 ;  his  memorial  tomb  in  Stratford 
Church,  310 ;  the  conspiracy  of  silence 
about  him,  ib.  ;  and  the  authorship 
of  Hamlet  or  King  Lear,  319 ;  the 
date  of  his  first  acknowledged  play, 
325  ;  the  supposition  that  he  allowed 
his  name  to  be  used  for  the  plays,  326  ; 
the  signature  of  his  name  to  the  dedi- 
cation of  Venus  and  Adonis,  340 ;  the 


384 


INDEX 


Shakespeare,  William — continued 
first  appearance  of  his  name  on  the 
printed  plays,  343 ;  his  professional 
and  business  capabilities,  346  ;  the  ac- 
knowledged writer  of  the  most  popular 
love-poems  of  the  time,  ib.  ;  why  his 
name  as  the  author  of  the  plays  was 
not  given  out  at  once,  347  ;  the  theory 
that  he  wrote  Bacon's  works,  365 ; 
reason  why  he  left  no  MSS.  or  men- 
tioned any  in  his  will,  367 

Shakespeare-Bacon,  essay  on,  and 
Bacon's  view  of  poetry,  340 

Shakespeare  Monument,  the,  102  ;  Latin 
inscription  on,  103 ;  the  composer  of 
the  inscription,  105 

Shakespeare  Plays,  the,  Welsh  characters 
in,  50  ;  historical  rather  than  autobio- 
graphical, 57 ;  Italian  scholarship  of 
the  author  of,  72  ;  French  scholarship 
shown  in,  73 ;  proof  of  authorship 
of,  inferred  from  contemporary  assent, 
94 ;  the  love  scenes  in,  123  ;  the  dates 
of,  140 ;  continual  alteration  of  the 
early,  196,  314;  parallelisms  and 
identities  between  the  Plays  and  the 
acknowledged  works  of  Bacon,  251 ; 
strange  love  ideals  in  the  earlier  plays, 
255  ;  frequent  dwelling  upon  certain 
changes  of  sexual  appearance  in  young 
lads  and  girls,  ib,,  263;  loftiness  of 
the  infused  religious  element  in,  261  ; 
and  the  argument  that  Bacon  had  no 
time  to  write  them,  293  ;  unique 
words  in,  301 ;  not  dedicated  to  any 
person  or  patron,  307  ;  the  coarseness 
of  the  dialogue  in,  311  ;  news  of  the 
extreme  Baconians  on,  ib,  ;  scenes 
and  incidents  attributable  to  Shake- 
speare, 312 ;  origin  of  the  constant 
revision  of,  317;  the  opinion  that  all 
the  plays  were  pirated,  326  ;  supposed 
self-revelation  in,  of  the  author,  327  ; 
the  superiority  of  their  moral  tone 
over  that  of  ordinary  plays  of  the 
period,  329  ;  reason  for  the  opposition 
to  the  Bacon  hypothesis  of,  341 ;  sup- 
posed dates  of,  346 

Shakespeare  Plays  and  Poems,  scholar- 
ship of  the  author  of,  66;  views  of 
the  Shakespearians  on  author's  schol- 
arship, ib.,  67;  Sir  Theodore  Martin 
and  the  view  of  Shakespeare's  con- 
temporaries on  the  authorship  of,  116  ; 
view  of  Professor  A.  R.  Wallace  on 
the  authorship  of,  118 ;  view  of  Sir 
Henry  Irving  on,  124  ;  signs  in,  of  de- 
pression caused  to  Bacon  by  his  breach 
with  Southampton,  178 ;  date  of 
publication  of  Poems,  194  ;  unusual 
circumstances  connected  with,  307  et 
seq. ;  the  poems  dedicated  to  South- 
ampton, ib. 

Shakespeare's  MSS.,  the  absence  of  re- 
vision in,  315 


Shakespeare's  Purge,  83 

Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  Samuel  Butler's, 
33 

Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  Samuel  Smith 
Travers's,  364 

Shakesper  not  Shakespeare,  W.  H.  Ed- 
wards's, 281  ;  R.  L.  Ashurst's  remarks 
on,  282 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,  and  Bacon's 
poetic  faculty,  272 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  his  influence  over  the 
author  of  Venus  and  Adonis  and 
the  Sonnets,  143,  201 ;  and  Giordano 
Bruno,  219 

"Silent  Name,"  the,  in  Marston's 
Scourge  of  Villanie,  23 

Silent  Woman,  Ben  Jonson's,  Bacon 
portrayed  in,  84,  152  ;  Herbert  por- 
trayed in,  152 ;  date  of,  154 ;  allusion 
to  Richard  II.,  155  ;  allusion  in,  to  a 
work  on  Tacitus,  155 

Silex  Scintillans,  the  preface  to,  338 

Some  Elizabethan  Cipher  Books,  7 

Sonnet,  by  William  Herbert,  Earl  of 
Pembroke,  the  "blushing  rose"  in, 
156,  157 

Sonnets,  the,  autobiographical  character 
of,  I,  55,  190 ;  the  real  keys  to  the 
Bacon-Shakespearian  question,  i ;  and 
Plays,  the  work  of  the  same  author,  i ; 
labour  devoted  to  the  elucidation  of, 
9;  the  "scandal"  of,  25;  external 
evidence  of,  32-52 ;  internal  evidence 
of>  S3  "65  ;  which  deal  with  the 
"bewailed  guilt"  of  the  author,  55; 
aristocratic  and  refined  atmosphere 
of,  56,  191 ;  original  source  of  the 
last  two,  70 ;  the  great  majority 
addressed  to  a  high-born  young  man, 
130  ;  references  to  the  "  Dark  Lady  " 
in,  131 ;  the  William  Herbert  theory 
of,  132  ;  date  of  the  earliest,  133  ;  the 
Adonis  of,  137;  the  "Wills"  in,  146, 
236 ;  intimacy  of  Shakespeare  and 
Pembroke  revealed  in,  147  ;  resem- 
blance between  their  wording  and 
that  of  Lord  Pembroke's  letter  to 
Cecil,  171  ;  the  mystery  of,  known  to 
Essex  and  Southampton  and  Ben 
Jonson,  177;  signs  in,  of  the  de- 
pression caused  to  Bacon  by  his 
breach  with  Southampton,  178  ;  sub- 
ject of  the  earlier,  191,  202;  the 
dedication  of,  192  ;  the  printer  of,  ib.  ; 
not  intended  for  the  public  eye,  194 ; 
enigmas  in,  195 ;  date  of  the  first 
seventeen,  201 ;  and  ^\^w^^' s  Arcadia, 
ib.  ;  traces  of  similarity  in,  with  Astro- 
phel  and  Stella,  202 ;  date  of,  202  ; 
allusions  in,  and  parallels  to,  Venus 
and  Adonis  and  Lucrece,  ib.  ;  a 
likely  date  for,  204  ;  melancholy  feel- 
ing in  the  author  of  the  earlier,  205  ; 
platonic  relationship  between  Bacon 
and  Southampton  revealed  in,  211 ; 


INDEX 


385 


Sonnets,  the — continued 

clue  to  the  reason  why  the  mystery 
of,  was  never  revealed,  211  ;  chrono- 
logical order  of,  214 ;  traces  of  Bruno's 
philosophy  in,  218,  226,  229 ;  allu- 
sions to  Chapman,  Daniel,  and  Mar- 
ston  in,  209,  220 ;  allusions  in,  to 
Queen  Elizabeth,  225,  226 ;  and  Ger- 
man critics,  242,  243 ;  hidden  allu- 
sions (in  the  second  series),  to  the 
author's  "infection  of  nature,"  244; 
admission  in,  by  the  author,  of  his 
folly  in  being  attracted  to  a  wanton, 
246  ;  the  practice  of  writing  for  others, 
249  ;  the  probability  that  some  were 
written  by  Bacon  for  some  one  else, 
ib. ,  250 ;  the  possibility  that  some  of 
those  which  seem  to  connect  their 
author  with  the  "Dark  Lady"  or 
Mary  Fitton  were  written  by  Bacon  for 
Pembroke,  253  ;  Che  two  loves  of  the 
author,  254 ;  natare  of  the  love  of 
the  author  for  the  "  Dark  Lady,"  ib,  ; 
depreciatory  remarks  about  the  love 
of  women  :a,  255 ;  the  ideal  of,  ib.  ; 
reason  why  they  were  called  "sugred," 
276  {note) ;  self-assertion  in,  of  the 
author,  295,  296 ;  numerous  parallels 
between  them  and  the  early  plays, 
306,  313  ;    parallel  to  the   Baconian 

authorship  of,   344 ;    some  eccentric 

critics  of,  362 ;  quoted  in  the  House 

of  Commons,  367 
Sonnets,  the,  autobiographical,  abrupt 

close  of,  248  ;  nature  of  the  last  two, 

248  ;  scholarship  of,  ib. 
Sonnets,     the    last     two,     scholarship 

shown  in,  70  ;  source  of,  ib. 
Sonnets  xviii.-xxvi.,  date  of,  203 
Sonnet   xx.,    the    love  referred  to  in, 

probably  Platonical,  256  ;  the  "  Mr." 

Hews  of,  356 
Sonnet  xxvi. ,  reveals  the  name  of  the 

hidden  author,  2  ;  remarkable  resem- 
blance of,  to  the  dedication  of  Lucrece, 

ib.,  206  ;  the  date  of,  207 
Sonnets  xxvii.-xxviii.,  allusion  to  the 

author's  journey  to  the  North,  217  ; 

their  striking  parallelism  to  Lucrece 

and  Romeo  and  Juliet^  205  ;  subject  of, 

207 
Sonnets   xxix.-xxxvii.,    reference    in, 

to  a  period  of  disgrace,  208 
Sonnet  xxxii.,   reference    to   Marston 

in,  209 
Sonnet  xxxvi.,  supplies  the  answer  to 

the  reason  why  we  do  not  hear  of  any 

personal  relationship  between  Bacon 

and  Southampton,  211 
Sonnets    xxxviii.-xxxix.,    period    of, 

213 
Sonnets  xl.-xlii.,  importance  of,  with 

regard  to  the  relations  between  the 

author  and  the  friend  who  robbed  the 

poet  of  his  mistress,  2   \ 


Sonnets  xlviii.-li.,  allusion  in,  to  a 
journey  taken  by  the  author,  217 

Sonnets  lii.-lv.  ,  and  Southampton,  217 

Sonnets  LVii.  and  LViii.,and  Pembroke's 
letter  to  Cecil,  217 

Sonnets  Lix.-LXXiv.,  pessimistic  philo- 
sophy of,  217  ;  hint  of  assassination 
in,  217  ;  ideas  and  phrases  in,  pointing 
to  Bacon,  218 

Sonnets  lxxv.-lxxxvi.,  the  "rival 
poets  "  referred  to  in,  209  ;  prospect 
of  death  referred  to  in,  210 

Sonnets  Lxxv.-Lxxxvii.,  excuses  in, 
for  the  author's  verse  being  ' '  barren 
of  new  pride  and  tongue-tied,"  and 
allusion  in,  to  rival  poets,  219  ;  legal 
allusions  in,  222 

Sonnet  LXXViii.,  reference  in,  to  Willie 
Hughes  leaving  Shakespeare's  com- 
pany, 358 

Sonnet  Lxxxii.,  the  first  line  of,  222 

Sonnet  Lxxxvi,,  and  the  "rival  poet," 

359 
Sonnets   LXXXViii.-cv.,   references  in, 

to  Southampton's  life  at  court,  223 ; 

to  the  "  lameness  "  of  the  author,  ib.  ; 

chronological  allusion  in,  225 
Sonnet  Lxxxix.,   and  the  reason  why 

Southampton  was  ignored  by  Bacon, 

211 
Sonnet  cvii.,  date  of,  225 ;  allusion  in,  to 

the  eclipse  of  "  the  mortal  moon,"  ib. 
Sonnets     cix.-cxxv.,      self-accusation 

in,  by  the  author,  53  ;  use  of  the  word 

"preposterousHe  "  in,  ib.  ;  date  of,  226 ; 

allusion    in,    to  a    threefold    charge 

hanging  over  the  author's  head,  227 ; 

apparent  allusion  in,  to  Mary  Fitton, 

228 ;    allusions   in,   to   Shakespeare's 

profession  as  an  actor,  ib. 
Sonnet  cxxiv.,  Baconian  character  of, 

230  ;  the  author  of,  a  man  of  quality, 

ib. 
Sonnet  cxxv.,  the  expression  informer 

in,    56,   232 ;   and    the    marriage    of 

Mistress  Anne  Russell,  149  ;  suggested 

dates  of,  231 
Sonnet   cxxvi.,  forms  a  break  in  the 

Sonnets,  233  ;    part   played  in,  by  a 

certain  Will,  ib.;  absence  of  a.n  envoy 

from,  354 
Sonnets  cxxvii.-CLii.,  allusions  in,  to 

the  "  Dark  Lady,"  235  ;  play  on  the 

word  IVill  in,  236 
Sonnet  cxxxvi. ,  enigma  of  the  closing 

distich  of,  238 
Sonnet    cxxxvi  1 1.,     and    the     moral 

character  of  the  "  Dark  Lady,"  239  ; 

the  printer  of,  291  ;  probable   Baco- 
nian authorship  of,  ib. 
Sonnet  CXLIII.,  similarity  between  simile 

in,  and  one  in  Bacon's  letter  to  Fulke 

Greville  in  1595,  241 ;  one  of  the  Will 

Herbert  series,  242  ;  alleged  allusion 

in,  to  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  ib. 

2  B 


386 


INDEX 


Sonnet cxLiv.,  the  "Two  Loves"  of, 

I  J191  ;  hints  in,  243  ;  limit  of  date  in,  for 
the  Passionate  Pilgrim,  ib.  ;  allusion 
in,  to  Bacon's  theory  of  the  nature  of 
fire,  ib.  ;  identity  of  "the  man  right 
fair"  of,  247 

Sonnets  CXLV.-CLII.,  the  questionings 
and  meditations  of  the  author  in,  247 

Sonnet  CLI.,  moral  unworthiness  of,  244  ; 
allusion  in,  to  misconduct  of  the  author 
with  a  lady  of  rank,  246  ;  the  difficulty 
of  believing  Bacon  to  be  the  author, 
250;  diversity  of  its  spirit  from  that 
of  Sonnet  cxli.  ,  ib. 

Sonnet  CLi  i . ,  self-accusation  of  the  author 
in,  248 

Southampton,  Earl  of,  his  friendship 
with  Bacon,  43,  123,  129 ;  his  first 
appearance  at  Gray's  Inn,  120;  his 
friendship  with  Shakespeare,  X29 ;  ad- 
dressed in  the  Sonnets,  134  :  his  pro- 
posed marriage,  135,  202;  beauty  of, 
139 ;  alienation  of,  from  Bacon,  142  ; 
improbability  of  his  being  intimate 
with  Shakespeare,  143 ;  allusions  to, 
by  Ben  Jonson,  155 ;  one  of  the  true 
founders  of  the  United  States,  160 ; 
mystery  of  the  Sonnets  known  to,  177  ; 
his  breach  with  Bacon,  178  ;  imprison- 
ment of,  178  ;  release  of,  ib,  ;  Bacon's 
letter  to,  ib.  ;  and  the  earlier  Sonnets, 
191 ;  Sonnets  sent  to,  203 ;  personal 
relationship  with  Bacon,  aio;  ana- 
grams of  his  name,  212 ;  and  the 
robbery  of  the  mistress  of  the  author 
of  the  Sonnets,  214 ;  the  youth 
of,  215;  allusions  to,  in  Marston's 
Satyres,  ib.  ;  references  in  the  Sonnets 
to  his  life  at  court,  223  ;  allusions  in 
the  Sonnets  to  his  imprisonment,  226 ; 
his  influence  in  advancing  or  favour- 
ing theatrical  companies,  234 ;  alleged 
allusion  to,  in  Sonnet  CXLiii.,  242; 
the  colour  of  his  hair,  247 ;  contem- 
porary evidence  that  he  had  literary 
work  composed  for  him  by  others, 
249  ;  the  poems  dedicated  to  him,  307 

Southampton  theory  of  the  Sonnets,  the, 
opponents  of,  138 

Southwell,  Elizabeth,  and  the  Earl  of 
Essex,  79 

Southwell,  Robert,  printing  of  a  poem 
by,  192 

Spedding,  Mr.,  and  Bacon's  style,  46; 
and  Lady  Anne  Bacon's  letters,  51 ; 
and  Bacon's  "Confession  of  Faith," 
260  ;  and  the  absence  of  poetic  fire  in 
Bacon's  writings,  267 

Stage,  the,  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time, 
as  a  means  of  publishing  opinions, 
327 

Standen,  Mr.,  letter  from,  to  Francis 
Bacon,  45 ;  his  letters  to  Anthony 
Bacon  written  under  different  names, 
320 


Stationers'  company,  members  of,  and  the 

purchase  of  MSS.  in  Queen  Elizabeth's 

time,  326 
Stopes,    Mrs.    C.    C,   and  the   "Dark 

Lady,"   197;  and  W.    H.,  ib. ;   and 

Bacon's  mistress,  266 
Strange's  players.  Lord,  and  Henslowe's 

theatre,  233 
Stratford  tomb,  the,  the  head  of  Shake- 
speare on,  102 
Supposes,  The,  and  the   Taming  of  the 

Shrew,  345 
"  Swan  of  Avon,"  the,  a  possible  allusion 

to  Bacon,  106 ;  suggested  solution  of 

the  expression,  369 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  and  the 

"lameness"  of  Shakespeare,  223 
Sydney,    Sir    Robert,    letter    to,    from 

Rowland  White,  148 
Sylva  Sylvarum,  Bacon's,  21 


Tacitus  and  Bacon,  155 

Taming  of  the  Shrew,  the,  source  of 
the  under  plot  of,  345 

Tarlton,  the  Clown,  the  improbability 
of  Shakespeare  meeting,  56,  319 

Tearesofihe  Isle  of  Wight,  &•€.,  The, 
anagrams  in,  212 

Tempest,  The,  the  writing  of,  317 ;  ex- 
pression of  the  author's  resolve  to 
abjure  poetry,  340  ;  the  anagram  in, 

353 
Theatres  in  Elizabethan  days,  91  ;  the 

resort  of  profligate  people,  328 
Thorpe,  Thos.,   and  the  dedication  of 

the  Sonnets,  192  ;   other  dedications 

by,  193;  his  estimate  of  Shakespeare, 

193 

Toothless  Satires,  Hall's,  publication  of, 
14;  suppression  of,  15 

"Trask"  Lecture,  the,  by  Sir  Henry 
Irving,  124 

Travers,  Samuel  Smith,  and  Shake- 
speare's Sonnets,  364 

Troilus  and  Cressida,  use  of  the  word 
preposterous  in,  54;  Shakespeare's 
Purge,  83  ;  light  which  it  throws  on 
the  authorship  of  the  Shakespeare 
Plays,  85  ;  the  preface  to,  193 

"Tubrio,"  Marston's,  and  Kit  Mar- 
lowe, 216 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  The,  signs  of 
the  "Dark  Lady"  episode  in,  195; 
the  Proteus  in,  215 ;  Thurio  and  the 
writing  of  sonnets  for  others,  249; 
strange  love  ideals  in,  255 ;  its  con- 
nection with  Montemayor's  Diana, 
264  ;  aristocratic  atmosphere  of,  ib.  ; 
intimately  connected  with  the  Sonnets, 
306,  313  ;  date  of  the  publication  of, 
346 

Tyler,  Thomas,  his  work  on  the 
Sonnets,  9  ;  and  the  individual  ad- 
dressed   in    the    Sonnets,   132 ;    his 


INDEX 


387 


Tyler,  Thomas—continued 
researches  into  the  history  of  Mrs. 
Fitton,  163 ;  his  exposition  of  the 
Sonnets  and  the  Pembroke  theory, 
191  ;  and  the  W.  H.  of  the  dedica- 
tion, 192  ;  and  allusions  to  Chapman 
in  the  Sonnets,  220 ;  and  the  reference 
to  Plato  in  Hamlet,  362 

Tyrrell,  Prof.  R.Y.,  his  triangular  duel 
with  Dowden  and  Judge  Webb,  109  ; 
and  the  authorship  of  the  Plays,  &c. , 
of  Shakespeare,  279 

United  States,  the,  true  founders  of, 

160 
Ur-Hamlet,  the  production  of  Kyd,  262 

Valerius  Terminus,  the  earliest  type  of 
Bacon's  Instauratio,  302 

Vanini,  the  Italian,  in  London,  and 
Bacon,  229 

Vaughan,  Henry,  the  Silex  Scintillans 
of,  338 

VautroUier,  Jacquinetta,  suggested  as 
Bacon's  mistress,  by  Mrs.  Stopes,  266 

Venus  and  Adonis,  the  authorship  of, 
14,  20 ;  the  Latin  distich  prefixed  to, 
18  ;  the  author  of,  under  a  Latin  veil, 
21 ;  reason  for  concealment  of  the 
authorship  of,  49 ;  Shakespeare's  in- 
ability to  have  written,  jj ;  absence 
of  dialect  in,  ib.  ;  dedication  of,  143, 
14s ;  the  last  stanzas  of,  145 ;  and 
Chapman's  Ovids  Banquet  of  Sense, 
221  ;  date  of  the  publication  of,  256  ; 
first  appearance  in,  of  William  Shake- 
speare, 289  ;  the  licensing  of,  300  ; 
the  author  of,  also  the  author  of  the 
Shakespeare  Sonnets  and  earlier  Plays, 
306;  the  author  of  Hamlet  visible  in, 
310 ;  the  Bacon  of  the  Sonnets  visible 
in,  ib.  ;  Shakespeare  had  no  share  in 
writing,  312  ;  enrollment  of,  on  the 
register  at  Stationers'  Hall,  321 ;  the 
signature  of  Shakespeare's  name  in 
the  dedication  and  the  question  of 
the  authorship,  340 

Virgidemiai,  Hall's,  15 ;  lines  from, 
quoted  by  Dr.  Grosart,  16 


Wallace,  Alfred  Russell,  and  the 
authorship  of  the  Shakespeare  Plays 
and  Poems,  118  ;  and  the  proof  of 
the  authorship,  281 


Walsingham,  Sir  Francis,  and  the  letter 
to  Monsieur  Critoy,  320 

War  of  the  Theatres,  the,  81 ;  duration 
of,  82  ;  authors  involved  in,  ib, 

"  Waters  of  Parnassus,"  the.  Bacon's 
allusion  to,  in  his  letter  to  Essex, 
I77i  273  ;  in  writing  to  Lord  Henry 
Howard,  273 

"  Waverley  Novels,"  the,  lesson  to  be 
learnt  from,  113 

Webb,  Judge,  and  the  "noted  weed," 
23,  107 ;  his  work  The  Mystery  of 
William  Shakespeare,  107 ;  his  tri- 
angular duel  with  Professor  Tyrrell 
and  Dowden,  109 

What  You  Will,  Marston's,  24 

W.  H.,  Sidney  Lee  and,  151 ;  a  clue  to 
the  words  "sole  begetter,"  164;  Mr. 
Tyler  and,  192 ;  and  Mrs.  C.  C. 
Stopes,  197 ;  and  the  Hews  of  Son- 
net XX, 

White,  Richard  Grant,  and  the  "gardens 
of  Adonis"  in  Henry  VL,  69 

White,  Rowland,  his  descriptions  of 
masques  and  devices,  38 ;  and  William 
Herbert's  first  appearance  in  London, 
133  ;  his  letter  to  Sir  Robert  Sydney, 
148 

Whitgift,  Archbishop,  and  the  burning 
of  Marston's  and  Hall's  works,  15 ; 
and  the  licensing  of  Venus  and  Adonis, 
300,  312  ;  and  the  refusal  to  hcense 
Hall's  Satires  and  Marlowe's  Ovid, 
ib.  ;  his  friendship  for  Francis  Bacon, 

313 

Willobie,  interest  taken  by  him  in  Lucrece 
and  its  author,  291 

"  Wills,"  the  three,  in  the  Sonnets,  146, 
236  ;  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  on,  in  the  Fort' 
nightly  Review,  239 

Wilson,  Thomas,  his  English  MS.  ver- 
sion of  Montemayor's  Diana,  265 

Wisdom  of  the  Ancients ,  Bacon's,  altera- 
tions in,  315 

Wither,  George,  and  Bacon's  poetic 
faculty,  274 

"Woman  Coloured  111,"  the,  meaning 
of  the  words,  246 

Worlde  of  Wordes^  A,  John  Florio's 
dedication  to,  183 ;  the  copy  of,  be- 
longing to  Dr.  Farmer,  184 


YONGE,  Barth,  his  English  MS.  version 

of  Montemayor's  Diana,  265 
Yorick's  skull,  the  incident  of,  59,  318 


Printed  by  Ballantynb,  Hanson  &*  Co. 
Edinburgh  b*  London 


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